Sometimes I dream of words. During the past two years I have become reacquainted with the joy of writing. I’ve always created perfunctory documents at work but had little interest in leisurely writing at home. One of the few positive aspects of sustained unemployment is the time and energy to write. I’m a non-fiction journal maker, a memoirist with arts, social, and political commentary. I post my thoughts, opinions, and feel honored that you are reading these words.
Despite my dislike of spelling, I wanted to be a journalist when I graduated from high school. After one year at the University of Minnesota’s School of Journalism I switched majors. I was disillusioned because of the sexism in the 1980s media. I studied Studio Arts but it is profoundly difficult to make a living as a full-time artist. I ended up graduating with a degree in Speech-Communications and working in the non-profit 501(c)3 field.
My heart is in helping the community but the pay is generally poor and funding unstable. I usually remain at a job for about two years before switching due to boredom. I ask too many questions. A combination of my forthright personality and insecure supervisors has lead to conflict and being fired. I have no desire to start my own business. I have ideas but it would be absolute agony to deal with the technical aspects of sales and accounting.
Language is powerful and precious. I couldn’t figure out how to read until I was in third grade due to mild dyslexia. Writing has always been a challenge. The words form in my mind but spelling is atrocious. Playing Scrabble is akin to torture. Thank goodness for spell-check. Whoever invented it should be rewarded with lots of good karma.
I really enjoy sharing my stories with the world. I am curious what draws you to this blog. Please leave a comment and join the other Followers, connect on Facebook and Twitter, too. If you write a blog, let me know the address and I’ll become your Follower. Thanks! This is my 150th posting.
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© 2012 Ima B. Musing