I talked to a friend from CPC last night. She, like me, said “screw you” to New York City (I realize it’s blasphemous to say anything bad about NYC these days–sorry), and is back in St. Louis. She, unlike me, is enjoying her time these days, even though she, like me, is unemployed. The difference? She started a novel.

A novel! As much of a compulsive writer as I am, I can’t even conceive of writing a novel. A whole book! With made up people! I’m so stuck in my “narrative non-fiction” groove that the idea of making up whole stories (as opposed to just embellishing the truth) seems as foreign a skill as skydiving. I might know how to sit in an airplane (ie type), I might know how to put on a backpack that could conceivably hold a parachute (ie express thoughts in words), but I certainly don’t know how to jump out of an airplane and not die (ie write decent fiction).

I’m in awe of her. And I can’t wait to read the book.

In a related note, I’ve been feeling markedly uninspired these days. I know what’s NOT inspiring me (the hippy raves I used to love that I now find pretentious, the freelance writing that used to make me feel accomplished that now just makes me feel unstable and financially insecure, the jobhunt here in this crippled market), but I haven’t quite figured out what to put in those disappointments’ places. My days are filled with black tea, trips to the rooftop, watering my plants, reviewing Amazon.com products, blogging, reading Metafilter, walking to and from the YMCA, grocery store, coffee shop, or bookstore trying not to spend money, and submitting resumes. My mother tried to tell me that it’s good I’m having some down time, since I’ve had “such an overstimulating last five years.”

I guess that’s one way of looking at it. But I can’t help but feel that sometimes I’m just atrophying. I knew I didn’t have any creative poop in me this fall, which was why I wanted to get a brainless 9-5 job. Unfortunately, it seems that those are hard to come by this season. Sorry to lay this blanket of bitter disenchantment on everyone (my reputation as online li’l miss sunshine has just been quickly disposed of), but there are some days when I feel like I’m peddling, and the bike ain’t gettin’ nowhere. Even worse, I’m not sure where I’m going.