My Struggle for a Thousand Words
I have led a pretty simple life without much writing attached to it. I finished my high school experience by receiving my GED and soon after was fortunate enough to land a good blue collar job, working for Bell South, never being required to write a stitch. A couple of years ago I was laid off after the company sold to AT&T. I had to move back home with my parents. Regretting not going to college when I was young, I decided to enroll. So the writing experience that I will discuss in my paper will be this one told in the present. Let me tell you, it has been a negative one.
With job opportunities being slim, without a college education, I wound up taking a job as a delivery driver. When I tell my friend and coworker, Robert, that I cannot get drunk and play video games like we do every Thursday night, he decides to help me with this essay. So we brainstorm some ideas for a couple of hours. He comes up with a story from his experience in high school, which was tempting to use, but I ultimately decide that I need to do this myself. So we scrapped it and started over. After about another hour or so with nothing coming to mind, he sarcastically says to me “Glenn, you’re in over your head, you are too old, what a waste of time this has been.” I tell him “If you’re going to complain all night, you can just leave so I can get this done.” Robert claims to be a casualty of this essay, for instead of playing Playstation as we usually do in an alcohol induced coma, we’re sitting in front of the computer sighing in tandem. We get absolutely nothing done and find ourselves watching the History Channel all night.
The next day I am sitting at the dining room table trying to type this up and my father is watching football, shouting loudly at the television. My mother is putting away dishes. All I can hear are the sounds of plates clanking together and how much the other team is ruining my dad’s night. So I pack up my laptop and go to my room for a little privacy. There is no sanctuary in this home. My nephews are spending the night and playing Wii U in the next room, being inconsiderately noisy. I don’t usually mind for I am the fun uncle, at least from their perspective. I supply them with fireworks, scratch offs, and let them stay up later than usual. As I peek my head around the corner to tell them to keep it down, they say...