I spent a month in California dealing with family stuff and it made me realize that I always have and always will love California. I live in a small city now. And it wasn’t my choice to come here. And after coming back from California, I feel more stuck than ever. Yeah, I’ll have my degree in January. English with a concentration in screenwriting from Southern New Hampshire University. I’ve got one more class to take.

But I have everything set against me for success.

I live in a film desert. Maybe once in a while, productions get shot in Montana, but not near enough to make it a career.

I also know NO ONE in the film industry.

My best bet is trying to write a novel, getting traditionally published, and getting it adapted. Which, that’s always kind of been my plan because that was the only way I knew of women getting into film in the first place unless they wanted to be an actor. And I don’t know if I’m an actor.

I did school plays, but I was always the random side person with one line and that’s a different kind of attention compared to being a screenwriter or a director. But either way, I’m back in the city I live in, and everything feels really far away right now.

I have a seasonal temp job. That’s it. And once that’s done, I’m back to looking for a job which will probably be in retail, and I will probably not be good at it. Maybe that’s not great to admit on a job searching website, but I’ve been terrible at every retail job I’ve ever had. Because it’s just something I have to do to survive.

I can stay up until five a.m. working on a script or a book idea but ask me to stock things and be polite to customers for eight hours, and I will end up crumpling because of social anxiety issues. It’s happened more than once.

I make some money from my art, but not enough to live on. That’s been the biggest change this year. I actually got some commissions, and started selling art on eBay, which has been great for my soul.

But the reality is I have everything set against me, $74 to my name, anxiety meds in my purse, and have never felt further away from trying to make it than I do right now. Oh yeah, and I turned 36 last month. So.

I don’t know. Maybe I’ll delete this. I know I just spent yesterday looking on indeed for career options that I don’t even know if I want to do them. I just need something to pay the bills. And that’s where I’m at right now in my creative journey. Finding something to pay the bills. And I hope it will get better, but it’s still a little daunting.

Please excuse my panic attack in the form of a blog. I’m fine, just feeling a little doom and gloom.