Now that I’m old enough to use eye cream I know what I should do. The party is over; I should be in grad school. Seems worth it. Loan with a $20,000 principal just for cocktail party cred and nods from careerist jackoffs. Just to make slightly more money teaching than I do now. Worth it, entering the educational arms race where within 5 years I’ll just have to level up to a Ph. D., all for the benefit of achieving the next tax bracket. I’d rather grab a mallet and play whack-a-mole with my nuts.
So no. There’s other ways to do it. Just don’t know what they are yet. Hmm. I have T-3 weeks left in Korea. Not going home to America, nothing for me there except probably working at a call center. Just gonna commit career suicide and slink straight over to Vietnam like a fugitive. And then I’ll… I’ll do something. Anything. I’ll be a tour guide or fuck around with penny stocks. Push a pedicab. I’ll be fine; in Vietnam you pay 1950s prices for everything. Even if I go broke I’ll still be white. And being a drifter is charming when you’re white. Anyway, I have a BA and no debt and I also happen to be the greatest writer the world has ever seen; that should be enough. Maybe it will be. There’s always the chance that we’ll wake up tomorrow in a world where WordPress is more popular than Instagram. Always a chance. I’m gonna be real good at investing.