Marriage was supposed to be a step towards a more stable adulthood, right? I mean, I didn’t think it would solve all my problems like some teenage girls think a baby will make their abusive football player boyfriend love them. I just thought it would give me a feeling that I’m entering a more mature era in my life.
Fat chance. Still reading comics. Still playing video games. And still un-gainfully employed. Where most of my married friends have stable careers and babies, I’m a T.A. in the screenwriting center at Columbia College and (still) working in the Second City Skybox Box Office. I make less money than I did 5 years ago and my thesis film is sitting on a hard drive in California just waiting for someone to finish it. I still feel like a lost puppy when I should be a ferocious dog.
Case in point. Today, I took a job working the Columbia College Graduate Open House. I’m definitely the oldest guy in there and while all the other student workers are knee deep in classes, I’m in my thesis — meaning I have no classes Meaning, I have one thing to do – finish a film and I can’t even get that done. While they have lots to offer in terms of advice, I feel like Matthew McConaughey in Dazed and Confused. It’s like I’m perpetually hanging out with the high school crowd. Of course, I have a feeling that Matthew McConaughey feels that way all the time.
Then I go straight form that job to Second City where I schlep around the box office making $11.00 an hour. In order to to pass the time at work, I wrote 50 thank you cards for gifts from the wedding. That productivity is getting me by during the day, but its not exactly propelling my career. I guess I could have written them more creatively. After awhile, you create a pattern, a format in which to thank people. Maybe if I had more fun I would feel like I do when I finish a blog post – like I exercised my writing brain. Instead of writing:
Dear Mr. Pants,
Thank you so much for the Bed, Bath & Beyond gift card. It will go a long way in helping us start our new life together. It was so kind of you to think of us on our special day. We wish you all the best.
Love, Timmy and Megan.
I could have written:
Hey, Mr. Pants!
We (meaning me – Timmy) have made a list of items for which your generous 50 dollar BBB. (FYI – that’s what the cool kids call Bed Bath & Beyond) (FYI means ‘for your information’ – get with the times bro!) (Bro is short for brother. This you may know, but man, your like 50. I don’t know your life. You’re like my Mom’s best friend and its best to be on the side of caution) (Hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you, its just that the possibility that one with a 50 dollar Bed Bath and Beyond card are so great that the stress is getting to me. Does BBB have homeopathic stress relating Zen fountains. That could help ) (Crap – that was an emoticon – the It means I’m happy!) (Okay, I just realized you probably know what an emoticon is. I’m a jerk ) (That was a sad one – crap again – I will assume you have kids that tell you these things.) (I’m going to stop assuming.) You know, this card is not big enough for this so I’ll send you another one with the list when I’m done with the other thank you cards. Sorry.
Love Megan and Timmy (but mostly Timmy) (Damn-it – not mostly like Megan doesn’t care. I just wrote this on her behalf.)
Or maybe I should just do this instead.
Dear Mr. Pants,
Love, Timmy and Megan
Of course, the subtext of that thank you card is:
Dear Mr. Pants,
I have an iPad – a device I can’t afford. Thanks for the gift card.
In any case, if I am going to have a family one day and support my wife, I need to get some ducks. Then get them in order. Then make money off those orderly ducks. Ducks.