Pouring rain, pouring a foundation.
The dizziness you feel is the result of sudden awareness to false acclimation; you’d nestled yourself into a nice-little Korean niche right before the floor was pulled from beneath your feet; you fell asleep behind the wheel, feasting on school lunch while weathering forty-hour work weeks. The crystal ball is looking more obscure than normal. Feeding dreams false promises, you failed to tether reality; and so, we exist here, sore in spirit, more so mentally, beginning to understand that scrambling is on the agenda. Yes, as the weather continues to get warmer, the future is on thin ice.
“2011: the year I’ll forgo the ‘figure it out’ mindset. Here’s to extravagant expectations and a champagne-less new year! Perhaps I’ll find love, buy a sports car, and eat caviar everyday. They’re all one-and-the-same, right? No doubt. Maybe I’ll win a Nobel Prize for solving the fusion dilemma. Maybe I’ll manage to keep that head of mine in the clouds forever. Here’s to skateboarding being decriminalized! Here’s to paperbacks and a failing pharmaceutical industry! Here’s to fresh socks and family!”
*These lines, extracted from an email addressed to your mother, make you look a little aloof. Seriously, snap out of it. Rewind twenty-four hours; listen to the conversation you had with your Korean co-teacher…
“Your husband will have to wait until his sunburn goes away.”
“…but your skin is white; we have yellow; that is different…”
No! That’s not the conversation I am referencing. Remember the bad news? The certain fate of your job? Getting the axe? Yeah, maybe it seems unrealistic, but trust me, this is really happening: the fake plastic trees are withering; your fantasy future must reconcile itself with reality. Your options are as follows:
1) Scrabble to find another teaching position in the far east.
2) Return home and face joblessness.
3) Sell a portion of your pancreas to a diabetic friend.
My recommendation is to abandon the following ambitions:
Look on the bright-side: after months of waiting for any word on your occupational status, you disproved the thoughtless theory that ‘no news is good news.’
Cheer up, buttercup; it’s only the rest of your life.
King to Queen,