Somebody took a gloom pill today (it was me).

Hi kids. Sadly, there's not much to report this week. My job is still ridiculously BORING...supposedly my boss is going to come up with some projects for me and possibly let me do some instruction at some distant point in the future when she gets herself "organized." Little does she know that I'm planning on being out of there by then. I've gotten a couple of calls for interviews since I accepted this position (one of which being the mind fuck), but I sorta feel obligated to stay here for a decent period of time, and by decent I mean about three months. But of course life never quite follows our own plans for it, so I'm in somewhat of a quandary about my next step. Do I keep applying for jobs, and if something comes up sooner rather than later just go for it? Or do I hold off for a few months, and then start looking? The flaw with that plan is that it took me five months to even find this job the first time around. *Sigh* I just don't know. I even went so far as to post a message on the Washington Post's job advice forum, but no one has responded so now I feel retarded. I'm also dealing the realization right now that I simply cannot afford to live in this region. I can't. And it's doubtful I will find a job here within the next several months that will pay enough to ever afford it. (Also, I don't like it here, which you all well know.) So, I've been sorta applying for jobs in other areas, but since I'm entry-level I don't really expect much to come of that. But then contemplating another move also makes me feel like shiznit.

In a nutshell, life sucks. I know, I'm so fucking gloomy. I'm beginning to wonder if I will ever not be gloomy. But as long as we're talking about gloominess, I should discuss my current book, 'Lolita.' Um, this book is about a pedophile. At least so much as I have read. Somehow in all the pop culture references I have seen to it, I had a vague idea in my mind that the book was about a man seduced by a 15-ish come-hither vixen. Nope, it's actually about a man having sex with a twelve-year-old child. I'm trying to keep an open mind, as I'm sure there must be some literary value to this book, but I'm just having trouble getting past that one aspect at the moment. And it's all the more difficult given that the book is written in a somewhat humorous tone. This is why I will never be getting an advanced degree in literature--I'm horrible at critical analysis. I started reading some criticisms of the book to see why it has become such a classic and everyone seemed to skirt around this issue that it is about a pedophile. I'm obviously missing something here. In one of the summaries I read, the critic mentioned in all seriousness that the girl seduces the man (which is what the narrator, the man, says happened) but I'm sorry, does anyone actually believe a twelve-year-old is capable of seducing anyone? So now I'm thinking that Nabokov wants us to be sickened by the main character, but for what purpose? I'm going to keep reading, but the whole thing just grosses me out. If anyone wants to enlighten me, I'd appreciate it.