strike that

no man, no plan, no canal

I am sitting in an Austin coffee shop called Flightpath. It’s a great coffee shop with warm yellow walls and retro furniture and paintings hanging on the ceiling. There are the appropriate number of slightly preppy hipsters sitting one to a table with their laptops, occasionally leaving to take phone calls.

I am trying to write a cover letter for a job that doesn’t exist. My friend Jon gave me the name of a former colleague of his who works at a company that does cool urban planning consultant work. They have an office in Portland. An office that is not hiring. Which makes this whole thing seem to me like a giant exercise in asking for rejection, but apparently that is Not How I Should Look At It. So I’m working on this cover letter. But it has taken me all day. And it still sucks.

Dave has been offering me helpful advice.

tortuga says:

how about, instead of applying for this job, i move to a commune in northern idaho and make big metal sculptures?

David says:

I don't think that will have the same kind of satisfaction for you

David says:

though it might

David says:

I don't know

David says:

how do you feel about big, metal, Idahoian sculpture?

tortuga says:

i don't know either. i mean, i like making big sculptures.

tortuga says:

i've always wanted to learn to weld.

tortuga says:

maybe this is my chance

David says:

could be

tortuga says:

maybe this awful, awful cover letter is god's way of telling me it's time to learn to weld.

David says:

maybe, and this is less subtle, it's god's way of telling you it's time to learn how to write a cover letter.

And I’ve been sending out random emails to folks about room rentals in Portland, though frankly I’m having some reservations about flying back out west and paying for a place and then maybe not finding a job there. But Plan A at the moment is that if someone writes back and offers me something, I’m just going to take it. And if no one writes back and offers me something, I’m going to have to think of Plan B, quickly. Because I’m running out of couches, and this is the first job I’m actually applying for. And it’s not actually a job.

So now would be a good time for something random to fall on me. (Let me specify, for the universe, that I would prefer this not to be a large heavy object, or anything else that would send me back to the ER.)

But I'm feeling surprisingly ready to make another big bold stupid decision.

Panama?

posted by tortaluga @ 2:31 PM