No Wheels Blues Chorus # 6

To quote Gonzo journalist Hunter S. Thompson, "I'm a binge writer." I'm also exceedingly lazy.

Those are the only two excuses I'll give for my lack of productivity lately.

Actually, I've been off-line, laboring on my space opera universe, tweaking it here and there, doing away with some old things and adding new ones. But I'm sure no one cares about space operas, much less my own, and it's hardly blogging, as one of my best friends, Matt, has pointed out.

Truth to tell, I've just been really uninspired lately. It's as if some invisible force has bound my hands, or shut off the valve inside my brain. And it's taking sheer effort merely to type.

Part of the reason for this is the banal routine that is my life. For those of you who don't already know, I don't have a driver's license. My mother kidnapped my car in a fit of worry over seven months ago. So I've been without wheels for quite some time. I don't know about most of you, but if you've gone without a car for an extended period of time, the effect is something like being on house arrest. And trying to get rides from people... the hassle!... especially when you live 30 minutes away from everyone else. Every day it reinforces the fact that you're a loser who doesn't have a car and mooches off the grace of others... Plus I can feel tension creeping in... Mom's getting irritated at having to ferry me back and forth to work 5 days a week, and rightly so... I would get a better job, but without a car, how would I get to interviews? Or how would I get there to even apply?

As it stands, the collection agency that's holding my license, Campbell & Campbell, a lawyer outfit in Chattanooga, Tennessee, will release my license if I send them a cashier's check for $500 and a conditional release form. They'd fill out the form, send it back to Ohio, and I'd be able to get my license back. And my car. And my life. Yesssssssssssssss. Blue skies. Barth burgers. GIRLS.

Sounds like plan, right? And it is. Unfortunately, however, I work at Outback Steakhouse, in Centerville, Ohio. And while the job is quite lucrative at times (usually averages out to $10/hour), it's only enough to break even every month. Given the fact that I don't have a checking or savings account, and the only money I have is what's in my wallet at any given time, it's kind of hard to get ahead.

But there's good news. My sister, Maleea, told me if I came up with $250 by the end of this week, she'd match me the other $250, and I could get my license back that much sooner. I gratefuly accepted her offer, and I've been saving everything I make each night (save a few dollars for smokes here and there).

To all of you who may think I'm a gigantic loser, well, I am. Only a scrub rolls in his buddy's car. But the utter humiliation I feel every time I get out of my mother's Chevy Lumina at work, or the sadness I feel at waking her up every night to come get me... that's punishment enough, wouldn't you say?

It all hinges on getting back that damned driver's license.