give me something to sing about, please

[lotesse]

via cofax, at New York Magazine, The Kids Are Actually Sort Of Alright: "'I am sad, jaded, disillusioned, frustrated, and worried,' said one girl I talked to who feels 'stuck' in a finance job she took as a stepping-stone to more-fulfilling work she now cannot find. Ours isn’t a generation that will give you just one adjective to describe our hurt."

... Between me, laboring frantically in grad school for - this semester - what breaks down to subminimum wage, for my boyfriend who's still underemployed more than a year after losing his last job - even for my students, who have all the technology and none of the prospects, who know that these are their last years on the parental gravy train and so enjoy both ridiculous material privilege and a sensation of the ground falling away beneath their feet, this rings pretty damn true.

Comments

[necromommycon]

For me, too. The sad fact is, if my husband weren't working, I'd be declaring backruptcy this year. And I have two university degrees, and a three-year technical qualification for lab work...

[anthimeria]

Me, too. Things at work are starting to get better (we're no longer functioning with only half a department, but 2/3 of a department--and no new training, not even for the new hires--isn't much better), but it's still a rare day when I have the energy to write. And I'm like, How did people do this? How did people/will I manage to write a book a year? And if I don't, then my audience will taper off and I won't be publishable, full stop. And then I'm like, well, if I fail at traditional publishing there's always self-publishing, which is getting brighter by the day, but if I don't have the energy for writing I'll never have the energy to do the work of an entire publishing team and thus any venture into self-pub is doomed before it starts. Just--ARGH.

And I'm lucky. And I know it. The above is what "lucky" looks like, now.

On that bright note, I hope you and The Boy are okay. Miss you.