MacBook still busted, for all intents and purposes
Not going to embark on another “my Mac’s busted” rant. If I had the money, I’d take it in and get it serviced. Maybe the optical drive slot might get fixed, and I could get OSX install disc 2 out of the drive, so I could insert disc 1 and locate the missing iMovie program, which disappeared, so I could make a little movie of me singing a song I wrote called “I Need a Job,” so either people could get a few laughs about this middle-aged white guy abasing himself in a last-ditch attempt to get somebody to see the wisdom in hiring him so that he can stay in Sacramento, and I’m talking about myself in the third person now, which I generally dislike, but at least I’m not framing it like: Jackson needs a job, like right now, so won’t you consider hiring a guy like Jackson?
So it would help to have a working computer — for that, and for my writing. I’ve got lots I could be doing, but, well, I don’t want to go into my situation, but it’s the most random and bindlestiffian existence of my entire adult life. Most people drink lots of cheap wine and smoke lots of crack cocaine to get where I am, but I did it stone cold clean and sober. Yes, you’re seeing my byline around, but that’s not enough; what little I make in writing, I eat, or pay my storage, or pay to keep my phone turned on. Right now, I’m down to my last $20. Not complaining, mind you, just stating a fact. So having a working computer — I can’t even load my Microsoft Office suite on this third hard drive of my computer’s 28-month existence, because of the design flaw in my MacBook’s disc-intake slot — would really be a plus. I am hobbled, as it stands. Not good.
Anyway, didn’t want to rant. I want to turn this life around, which has been thrashing around like a fish on the dock since my marriage crashed and burned, followed by the company where I worked. I’d prefer to stay here, or in Northern California, but I’m going to consider moving somewhere else where I can find a day job. Austin, Texas? Thinking very seriously about it.
Somewhere. Anywhere that will have me. This is really starting to suck. —Jackson Griffith