WHAT I HOPE FOR . . .

IT’S BEEN A couple of weeks since my last entry. Haven’t felt much like writing, or typing, or blogging . . . (notice my lack of pronouns throughout, a reflection of my disconnect & discontent).

SPENT MOST OF the past few days applying for jobs online (City of Chicago, Cook County). Dropped off several applications downtown, one at Accessor’s Office for a Training Coordinator position, two at Chicago Public Schools; one for Career/College Coach (which I would love to do); the other for an Admin Asst job (which I don’t want to do, but it had to do with calling substitutes -- better calling for substitutes than being one).

(But as each day goes by, I find myself being thankful for having the ability to apply for ANY job, considering the suffering down south in the aftermath of Katrina.)

TWO WEEKS AGO, I got a letter from unemployment advising me that I had exhausted my employment benefits so that kind of bummed me out a little (actually a lot). Got a little depressed, though I referred to it as a “disconnected” feeling because I don’t want to lay claim to depression. I was kind of getting used to that measly little supplemental income, so I know it’s time for me to get a job. (Actually, in the interim, I came down with a cold/bronchitis thing—seems like a recurrence of an earlier sickness.)

(But as another week comes to a close, I find myself feeling less and less sorry for myself, considering the people who are still holding out in deplorable, unhealthy conditions down South, and the many sick/dying babies & elderly people in hospitals in the aftermath of Katrina.)

OUT OF ALL the jobs I’ve posted for so far, the only one I’d really like was the “Victims Witness Specialist Bilingual” (I’m not kidding, that’s the job title—sounds weird). But it has to do with victims of domestic violence & other crimes, which is right up my alley. I’m qualified for it, and the office is at 13th & Michigan, which is far enough away from “the Loop” so that I’d be away from that madhouse (UUGGHH!), which is where I had to drop off the applications for CPS. I DO NOT want to work downtown; I hate walking down those busy sidewalks with all those people; it was like I couldn’t breathe! I last worked there last in 1985 and the only way I’d go back there is worse-case-scenario—if nothing else becomes available (which is what it’s beginning to look like).

(But thinking back, I find myself feeling blessed that I was able to walk the streets of the Loop through the rushing crowd instead of wading through waist-deep stagnant water, smelling human waste and decomposed bodies, like the people in the aftermath of Katrina.)

BEEN THINKING ABOUT my third novel – just thinking about it mind you. Not actually doing anything about it. It’s in the skeleton stages, yet I’ve set a deadline of finishing it by 2006. I have the prelim jacket blurb written, and several chapters which total 22,000 words. I want to work on it, but I’m just not motivated. Is it my procrastination? Is it that I’m bored with the book? Is it that I’m becoming slightly disillusioned by this whole writing/publishing thing? Is it the Katrina disaster? Maybe a combination of all of the above. Does this mean I’m not passionate about my art? I don’t think so.

(But as I surf from channel to channel, the “dilemma” of working on a novel pales in comparison to what is going to happen to the displaced people in the aftermath of Katrina, after the waters recede, when life returns to “normal” – if/when it ever does.)

AS MY MONTHLY bills pile up, I just let them pile up, waiting ‘til the last possible moment to pay them (as if more money will appear as the days go by). And as I deposit my last unemployment check and my savings account slowly depletes, I avoid driving unnecessarily so I don’t have to purchase the ridiculously expensive gas, eat out (and “in”) less, and use my pennies when making purchases as if not breaking my dollar bills will make them last longer.

(And as each news broadcast pulls at me for donations for the Katrina victims especially the Red Cross, I finally pull out my credit card and give a little of what little I have left.)

WHAT I HOPE . . .

I HOPE “the whole world is watching” & they finally see a part of America that is not regularly on the media (i.e. celebrities, rap stars, politicians that don’t represent the majority of us).

I HOPE they see that just because we are purported to be the richest country in the world, that that wealth is not equitably shared by a huge segment of the population.

I HOPE they see we are a nation that spends too much money on the rich, and never enough on the poor.

I HOPE they see we are a nation whose priorities are screwed up, which was led to a foreign war by one of the biggest lies of the 21st century, when all along we’ve yet to win the war on poverty, drugs & guns at home.

AND I HOPE that the president who was erroneously voted into office by the misguided, so-called Right finally looks into the sewage-filled/oil-slicked/corpse-ridden Gulf Coast waters, sees his reflection, and resigns.

I CAN ONLY hope . . . and pray.

love, peace & soul
amor, paz y alma
(as always, in the strongest spiritual sense, not a lá Soul Train)