• Mood: curious
• Music: Guests snoring on the futon. Noisily.

And now, The Angsty Poetry Corner.

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And poops on all your aspirations.

You know, one of the biggest obstacles in motivating my job hunt is the question, "Why am I putting so much effort into getting something that makes pretty much everyone miserable, when I can be miserable with no effort whatsoever?"

Addendum: The Emily Dickinson parody above was prompted by a conversation with jdarkwulf about getting excited when one finds a job that seems specifically suited for one's skills and experience, only to find one's self in the same echoless void into which one has tossed all of one's other resumes.