Frustrated and Agitated

The thing that frustrates me the most about the extension of the Bush tax cuts isn’t that Obama caved (which he did) or that the Republicans are obstructionists to the point of cruelty (which they are) or even that the tax cuts always had an expiration date and this shouldn’t even have been a conversation.

The thing that frustrates me most is that we all continue to speak and act as if right now, in the version of America in which we live, that there is any hope for any level of the so-called American dream anymore. Barring some absurd luck, the chances of you being able to afford a decent education, get a well paying job, and be able to buy a home and sustain a family without living in debt and fear, are practically nil. And if you get sick, even if you have insurance, good luck, but really…fuck you.

In many places around the country the only job sector that is growing is retail. More and more jobs go to other countries. We physically produce less and less. Prices keep going up and up an wages hardly budge at all. Every job I have had over the last few years has required more time and responsibility than the one before it and yet I always get offered a similar amount of money. Even if you want to work hard, there aren’t always opportunities to do more. All you really can do is sell things to rich people. When I think of most of the people I know of who do work for themselves, that is in fact, exactly what they do.

It’s not entirely impossible. Some people I know through comedy will make a good living. Some will maybe even be lucky enough to make a great living. But we shouldn’t be surprised that everyone wants to be famous when we see the famous as having so much, and having . There’s not much to go after otherwise.

I’m young and creative and I work hard and I’m not even that worried about me. Yet. I worry about my mom whose husband has been laid off twice in a year. I worry about her making less than I make at my jobs. She did so much so I could get a decent education, so I wouldn’t just be the daughter of a drug dealer and a single mom, and I don’t know how she’ll ever get out of it. Like Kanye, I promised my mom I would take care of her. I so desperately want to keep that promise. But a month shy of my 30th birthday I just lobbied hard to be an elf at Macy’s and I didn’t get it, so you know. What to do?

 

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