Anymore, fall just feels like unemployment

I've been reading some of the letters sent between poets, as well as between them and their family.  Besides the schadenfreude associated with hearing dirt on what are, essentially, celebrities (Robert Frost calls Ezra Pound his "sometimes friend."  Ice cold.) there's a certain humanizing element to it as well.  A solidarity in reading that T.S. Elliott struggled greatly with his finances when he moved to England.  Especially now, that I am once again looking for work.

Really, at this point, it's more of the same.  Just frustrating that so much of time time is spent just looking for work.  Also, somewhat of a set back when a potential employer found this blog and rescinded a job interview.  Now, I can see their post on Craigslist.  Maybe that's something like seeing an ex at the grocery store, soon after the break up.

In any case, if there's writing that needs to be done, and you're not offended by my blog (which I personally find fairly tame), then give me a shout out.  I write everything.