The reason I haven’t written anything in this blog since May 5th is pretty simple and fairly obvious, I got a job. Around the time of my last entry is when my offer became official, making it impossible to write a blog about being unemployed without feeling like Balki Bartokomous in the episode of Perfect Strangers where he thinks he’s going to be a pop star but pulls the plug on his own career after realizing that they’ve dubbed out his voice with that of a much better singer, bringing him to an ethical crisis, an impasse of meaning, a…you get it, I’m obviously just trying to sound smart because this is the last entry in this blog until I become unemployed again and as such, I want the takeaway to be “Boy, he’s smart.” Because I worry about such things. Because I’m worried that I’m dumber than when I was born. Because I’m worried just getting older makes me dumber. Because I’m worried the endless digital distractions make it harder to concentrate than it used to be. Because I’m worried that the internet is changing the way I think, that it’s somehow fucking it up. Because I’m worried my thoughts will come slower some day even though I’ve tried hard to slow them down and shouldn’t be worried. Because I’m worried I’ll stop being funny. Because I’m worried I was never funny in the first place. Because I’m worried about writing about worrying, and who this might worry. Because I’m worried about what you think. Because…wait a second, why am I ending this on some weird serious note? This isn’t a serious blog. Let’s just pretend I never said any of the stuff I just said and instead end with this a high-five.
There, I feel better already.