Is that incompetence I smell? Because you reek of it

03 Jan 2012 Leave a Comment

by pant0mime in random thoughts and crazy wonderings, sadness and everything along with it

Today, I discovered a major advantage of talking to a stranger. Well, not a complete stranger, but a stranger all the same. I should probably stop saying stranger. Stranger.

Anyway, you know those times when you really feel like shit and you consider the people you’re comfortable enough to talk to and can vent out your frustrations to—but you can’t think of anyone in particular you want to talk to? Today is one of those days. Fortunately for me, I know a stranger I’ve been strangers with for a few years now.

One good thing about being strangers with someone is that you could say a fuckload of crap and not care if they are stupid. Because let’s be honest, they really are. So today just to get something out of my mind and just let it out there, I talked to him.

She: hey stranger
Him: hey you
She: did you ever consider writing as a profession?
Him: well, my English isn’t really good, for one.
Him: you’re still with [insert company name here]?
She: yep, although I’m not sure now why they hired me in the first place. Ugh. I feel so incompetent.
Him: when do you feel incompetent?
She: the past few weeks—all the time.
She: it’s intoxicating how incompetence feels.
Him: hmn.. Well, maybe that’s not your genre?
She: I’m not really sure what my genre is anymore, or if I even have one.
She: what’s your niche?
She: poetry?
Him: you’re a commercial writer. If you wanna earn thru writing, you have to stay that way, but you’d definitely lose yourself.
Him: me? hmn. I like to tell stories.
She: I do too
Him: you can’t always do what you like to do and then get paid.
She: I realize that, but I thought I could compromise with Life and at least write something else. But still write.
Him: “but still write…” I’m pretty sure you find that disturbing too. “BUT still write…”
She: yeah I’m realizing that now
Him: just come up with a good crap you’d say to yourself every time it becomes all too disturbing.
She: give me one
Him: “compromise with Life and at least write something else. But still write.”
She: well, apparently, that doesn’t work. Give me another one.
Him: “This pays the bills.”

I guess it does. Case closed. Move forward, stinky Jane. Take a shower of glittery Optimism and let your fragrant Confidence wash away the reek of your Incompetence.