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So when did my idea of Bliss become a job as a Webmonkey?

I'm serious. For the last month and a half, I've been bitching about not working. Admittedly, I'm unemployed, and money is a beneficial thing, and I've been taking these odd temp assignments whenever they came. And the more I work in the Web, the more I sit and design and code and do shitwork, the more I ask myself:

Do I really want to do this for the rest of my life?

When I was in seventh grade, I wanted to be a nuclear physicist. I had no idea what a nuclear physicist did, but it sounded so COOL, so unbeJEEZUSLY neato, that I wanted it, more than anything. In eight grade, I wanted to be a systems analyst. Once again, I had NO IDEA what a systems analyst would do. But it soulded WAY BOSS. Not as K-Rad as a NUCLEAR PHYSICIST, mind you, but cool in its own right.

In high school, I wanted to die. Pretty much all day. We won't go into that right here, except for the fact that 6th through 10th grade were something of a self-esteem vacuum for Your Humble Narrator. When senior year came around, I didn't want to do anything. Scratch that - I wanted to be cool. I wanted to be one of the cool kids. And the coolest kid I knew was my pal named Dave, who played guitar and shot videos and smoked pot and dated cheerleaders and didn't give a fuck about anything because he was cool. So me, being the impressionable lackey dweezo that I am, I try and be Dave. And that's how I got turned onto video and filmmaking.

Of course, my senior year English teacher, Madame Musgrave, encouraged me as well. She assigned us a creative writing assignment. I did it. The next week, I had to make up a test, which, as we all know, necessitated sitting out in the hall. And I HEARD HER READ ONE OF MY STORIES, and I nearly DIED. OH MAH GAWD, I NEARLY DIED, LAWDY!!!! But the strange thing was that people liked them. I became Cool on my own, because I was a satiric, sarcastic, yet ultimately heartfelt writer. I was the Funny Writer. (I was also The Guy Who Got Laid On Prom Night, but we won't go into that debacle right now.)

So I went to U.F. (like Dave) and signed up for telecomm/video classes (like Dave). But unlike Dave, I also went my own way, joining Crosscut, working for Spinal Tech, becoming a projectionist, joining Theater Strike Force, being transformed by writing and performing my own sketch comedy, creating new and exciting ventures...

And now, here I am. 26 years old. Living in Boston, or just outside of it. Broke. Unemployed. I've been doing LARPs and tabletop games, and not much else creatively. The old crew is scattered across the country. I have my one screenplay, and that's all. And I'm desperate for a job coding HTML all day.

Good Lord, what happened to me? I mean, where did my drive go? Was it totally consumed by The Almighty Dollar? I mean, have I forgotten how to enjoy myself?

And it certainly doesn't help that I see cool kids on the Web, the coolest living about 5 minutes away from me. I don't know. I'm missing something, and I can't get that hunger back...

...or can I?

You're only as old as you feel, right? I did it before, I can do it again! HELLS YEAH, this is a WAKE-UP CALL, MY NEGROES, that YOURS TRULY, SCOTT JASON MOTHERFUCKING PANCAKE COHEN, is NOT MEANT to trudge and toil and ache for THE MAN! SCOTT PANCAKE COHEN is supposed to be WRITING, ACTING, and MAKING ALL THE HOMIES LAUGH, BOYEEEEEEEEEE! Scott Jason Pancake Boogie Nights Rasputin The Body Cohen is a CREATIVE DYNAMO, and I and he WILL NOT STOP JUST FOR A DOLLA'! We will GET IT BACK! We will FIGHT! We will rampage ALL OVER THIS MOTHERFUCKER AND SET IT RIGHT!

As soon as I pay rent.

-- sjc