Supplies...

I signed on to teach another year at Republicanalia High School of Mary. They made me an offer I couldn't refuse. Actually, more accurately, I made them an outrageous proposal that I couldn't ever imagine them accepting, and they more or less accepted it. So, next year, I will receive my normal raise, but will be teaching 2 less classes. More importantly, this new schedule means I only have to be at work every other day (we have block scheduling).

What will I do with my newfound free time? In theory, I will spend most of that time in coffeeshops in Topanga Canyon (I plan to move out of Hollywood at the end of the summer), finishing up el novelo. In reality, I will probably spend most of my time sending out fantasy baseball trades. When the season ends, I might start screwing around on myspace or maybe I'll update my blog more often. What's become clear, though, is that art is a luxury afforded to kids with trust funds. I didn't really think that was particularly true until I left Columbia and realized that I was one of TWO people who planned on getting a job. The rest of my classmates are still in NYC, living in the same UWS apartments, hacking out pages of their bad short story collection and eating bad Donkatsu at Cafe Swish. (for 9.50!)

Do I begrudge them their leisure? Of course. I am as petty as they come. At least once a day I curse loudly at those idiots whose parents believe in their talent enough to stake them to a responsibility-free mid-twenties. Do I begrudge my parents for not giving me a similar deal? Surprisingly... no. Why the fuck should they pay for me to romanticize myself in the context of New York City?

At the same time, working drains the writing impulse. I think whichever French writer was right: writing comes from boredom and dissatisfaction with the surrouding world. When I come home from even an easy day at work, I'm too exhausted to do anything but watch TV. Some of this I blame on my insane commute (50 round trip miles a day) and my dislike for Los Angeles. But, at the same time, there's no job I could possibly have in New York which wouldn't require longer hours and a similar subway commute. And there's certainly no job I could have in New York that would pay me a livable wage to work 10 days a month...