A Day in the Life of an Unemployed Writer Person

8:36 am: Get woken out of dead sleep by cats begging for breakfast. Nudge partner to get out of bed to do it since they have to get up for work in 20 minutes and you don't. Go back to sleep.

9:43 am: Open eyes, see time on the clock, mutter to self that this natural wakeup stuff might be nice, but it's getting old. Force self out of world's greatest bed. Perform morning toilette with underlying feelings of self-loathing.

9:55 am: Walk downstairs to find dishes piled in the kitchen sink. Tell self you have all damn day to do them.Turn on computer, open first Diet Coke of the day. Look longingly at bong on kitchen counter. Tell yourself you must wait.

9:56 am: Check email. Of the 23 new messages cluttering the inbox, 22 are from stores offering discounts on clothes you can't afford, even with 25% off and free shipping. Delete them without reading. The 23rd message is a reminder from the library, demanding the return of a book you still haven't read yet, written by someone who isn't you.

9:57 am: Change Facebook status to something appropriately entertaining while being self-deprecating, yet not desperate. Enjoy small endorphin rushes when people reply. Know you are pathetic.

9:58 am: Check number of Twitter followers. Mentally calculate difference from last night when you signed off.

9:58::30 am: Check www.whounfollowedme.com and rationalize that you didn't need those people, or they were most likely Justin Bieber fanbots anyway.

9:59 am: Open Tweetdeck. Check mentions. Wonder why you don't have more.

10:00 am: Look longingly at bong. Decide 10 am is too early. Glance at clock. 10:01 am is also too early.

10:02 am - noon: Read news provided by links from Twitter. Re-tweet the links you find meaningful. Try to cleverly come up with your own variation on a Trending Topic. Repeatedly smack self on forehead when you realize yours will never be as clever as the ones sent out by already famous comedians. Consume three more cans of Diet Coke and maybe a piece of toast. Check local websites and Perez Hilton. Begin writing a blog about how reality TV stars suck. Realize you can bring nothing new to the topic. Glance longingly at bong, ignoring the cats' disappointed glare that you aren't feeding them yet. Check email. Nothing. Make appropriately cutting remarks to self about how of course no one's emailing you. Feed the cats to shut them up already.

Noon: Realize you haven't showered. Calculate hours until partner's return from work. Wonder how long you and the cats can stand yourself.

12:01 pm - 12:30 pm: Shower. Blow dry hair because it looks awful when you don't. (Put off makeup application until 10 minutes prior to partner's return, because no one else is going to be seeing you, anyway).

12:30 pm: Return to computer. Check emails, Facebook, and Twitter to see who's doing what and where and with whom. Feel left out. Look over at the bong, now gleaming in the mid-afternoon daylight streaming through the windows. Sigh heavily. Avoid the disappointed looks in the cats' eyes. If they could only shake their heads at you, they would.

1:45 pm: Dodge third phone call of the day from the credit card company. They are under the impression that you don't know you owe them money. Clearly, they are stupid, stupid people.

1:46 pm: Check Craigslist for jobs. Wonder when "Developed leg model" became a 'talent'. Mumble "Yeah, right" at all the no-pay gigs. Loudly curse the lack of employment opportunities in your ridiculously narrow field. Wonder how you can spin your situation into a bestselling memoir.

1:48 pm: Read online article about how memoirs are flooding the market, while few merit any attention whatsoever. Muse aloud that no matter what you want to write, someone somewhere will announce that it's just too late for you. Loser. The cats seem to agree.

1:56 pm: See "10:02 am - noon", minus the toast and blog attempt.

3:56 pm: Turn on TV. Check to see who's on "Oprah".

3:56::05 pm: Shut off TV.

3:56::07 pm: Read other blogs for inspiration. Tell self yours is just as good and that someday someone will read it and want to give you money for your book.

3:57 pm: Laugh derisively at self.

3:59 pm: Check Twitter followers. Wonder how many will unfollow you once they realize how much you Tweet. Block several gross people who send you porn links and wonder why people even bother to do that anymore, it's just so late 90s.

4:00 pm: Update Facebook status to make it seem like you've accomplished something today, when all you've really done is take a shower and fed the cats two of their three meals. You haven't even done the dishes. You so totally suck.

4:20 pm: You know what happens here.

4:22 pm - 5:00pm: Write at least one thing that doesn't make you want to curl up into a fetal position of despair. Exchange witty banter with other funny people on Twitter to keep up Front of Togetherness. Feel slightly better about life thanks to others validating your existence and boosting your withering self-esteem.

5:00 pm - midnightish: Pretend to be involved with whatever TV show is on in front of you while trying not to think how you wasted yet another day. Play with the cats. Keep email and Tweetdeck open so you won't miss anything, even though you know that everyone's workday is over and no one is going to be offering you a paying gig today. Move the bong from the kitchen to the living room. Watch people on TV who have no discernible talents, yet are being paid excruciatingly high salaries. Decide your time is coming, oh yes it is, sure it is. Trudge up the stairs to bed. Trip over cats.

1:14 am: Suddenly wake from a terrifying stress dream of riding an underwater roller coaster. Take deep, cleansing breaths. Know that tomorrow you will start again, and keep trying, trying, trying.

Oh, but good luck falling back to sleep.

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