I never thought that my first blog would be posted from the bus, but here it is. This is the first time I’ve ridden the bus on my own, and one of only a handful of times in my adult life. However, I fear that this may become a regular thing.

I’d love to tell you that I’m living the dream. That I’ve got it all figured out and get paid unthinkable sums of money for my craft. But that’s not truth.  

I tried, and am still trying, but its a long road to get started and things have prices. Thus, in an effort to not literally be a starving artist, I am once again full-time employed.

I don’t even know that it can support me. I have a college degree, a string résumé, and the metrics to back up my skills. Yet the only jobs I can find pay me less than I made 10 years ago. I fear it might not be a sustainable amount. But I have no other options right now, short of using my creative writing skills to make up clever signs for street begging, while i embracing being homeless. So I work a job that may just be putting a bandaid on a financial wound that needs a graph.

Parking in Los Angeles is tough. Even worse on street cleaning days. Therefore, unless I want to spend money that I don’t have to work a job that doesn’t pay enough, I must ride the bus.

I suppose that I don’t mind it all that much. Other than the fact that everyone on board looks angry and I have to brush my arms against strangers. In any other bug city, it’d be a perfectly normal thing. Perhaps, even preferred. With any luck, once I’m comfortable on it, I can bring my computer with me and write during the hour commute. Hopefully, it won’t get stolen.

So here I am, on the bus the first time, listening to a book via my earbuds and iPhone. Giving my boyfriend access to the car for his use (we share one) and ignoring all that is outside the screen that I’m staring at. Occasionally looking up in an effort to listen more effectively when they announce what stop we’re at, and afraid to interact with any of the humans around me.