“Some men are born mediocre, some men achieve mediocrity, and some men have mediocrity thrust upon them,” to quote the writer Joseph Heller. I'm writing this in the cradle of modern conventionality, Starbucks, before my first shift at a new job -- and I wonder which of these three categories I fall into. I've been out of work for nearly 18 months, and while this job may not be more of the same, it doesn't feel as auspicious as my last position, and I have to wonder if I still have forward momentum
This career change begins at a small restaurant that motorboats the cleavage of the Hollywood Hills. Right now I'm a dishwasher grabbing into bus tubs of half eaten cheeseburgers and quinoa bowls studded with bits of vinaigrette dampened kale, trying to pull out every espresso spoon and ketchup spattered ramekin. I sweep. I mop the floor. I windex the bathroom. A year and a half ago I was sitting in a box all day, watching movies, writing essays about nude scenes, and tweeting "humorous" tweets.