I am a writer.

I have to remind myself of this often.

In my parents' world, this doesn't really count. I'm starting to get extreme lectures because I haven't found a job and I've been out of college for three months, despite the fact that I've applied for about a thousand jobs this summer (all right, if we're talking actual numbers, it's really probably only been between three and four hundred-- and I'm serious). But I've been putting solid work in on my novel and despite the fact that I have about twelve chapters and ten days, I'm still determined to have this round of rewrites done by the time September begins. The family is going to the outlets shopping tomorrow, I think, but I'm pretty sure I'm going to take advantage of that time and bang out a couple of edited and rewritten chapters.

But back to the job search. I'm either overqualified or underqualified for just about everything out there. My eighteen year old brother dared to lecture me today because I hadn't applied at places like WalMart, but here's the thing-- I want whatever job I end up getting right now to count for something when it comes time to apply for that golden job that I find and really want. And a job at WalMart isn't really going to count as relevant job experience.

I'm getting disillusioned. Bored with life, and the world. And I don't like it, because typically I'm the optimist in the room. The delusional, refusing-to-be-jaded optimist.

How do I get that back?