ADRIFT IN A SEA OF SHIT

As I sit in my sunlight living room, awash in the mid-70s that Southern California has offered up this fine winter's day, I find myself melancholy.  I can't pinpoint exactly why, but I know that I feel useless and purposeless since being let go from my last job.  Truth be told, I didn't even like my last job, but it gave me something, a raison d'etre.

I hate not having means -- and by means, of course, I mean money.  Being in your mid-30s, overly educated and poor is a terrible place to be.  I guess the worst part is that I am in no hurry to go back to work.  If I could scrape two nickels together, I'd go travelling instead of going to work -- I just don't see the point.