Timing is Everything

I sit here in front of this computer, surfing the Internet, looking for some kind of job posting that will catch my attention I feel is worthy of my application. It has been a week since I have been "let go" from my last job and things seem to be moving so slowly. All my hopes just die with each minute that passes. I realize that this bachelors degree in Liberal Arts with a concentration in Radio Broadcasting is nothing more than a piece of paper. I have wasted four years of my life many years ago receiving an education for something I once thought was my passion, now only has become a decent story to tell to people that still believe a job in radio is as glamorous as I once thought.
I do not get myself down though, I know I am worthy of someone hiring me and paying me some obscene salary for doing something I love as long as I am given the chance. What is it, you ask, I love to do?
Writing, of course.
I am not great at it, but I do the best I can. But even to myself, my best is not good enough.
I want to be great. I want to be read centuries from now and studied in literature classes as one of the greatest 21st century writers. I try to be philosophical, but I fall short a bit when it comes to a battle of the whits with someone better read than I am. It is alright, though. I feel my whit is still above a good majority of the soap box screamers that the world seems to be attracted to.
My problem?
I do not have a soap box to stand on as of yet.
I don't need one though. I will do my screaming from ground level and let all the passers by within hearing range soak in all the bullshit I am spewing.
There is another difference between me and the other soap box dwellers; I know most of my words are pure bullshit to other people. I am not right, and I am not wrong. I am just opinionated; right or wrong.
All of that is besides the point, though. Those, as of right now, are just pipe dreams.
I wonder why they call them pipe dreams anyway. Are they dreams that are somehow better flushed to the sewers only to flow beneath our feet in one flowing river of feces and garbage? Maybe that is why pipe dreams never come true.
My pipe dreams always come to call, especially now that I am searching for a good job that I know I am qualified to do. As I sit in a broken backed, swivel chair with my head rested on my clenched fists, I dream on. I also regret on (if you will excuse my low attempt at a whimsical play on words) .
My head races with "whats ifs" and "could have dones" that might have saved myself from this unemployed position. When it is said and done, though, I know there was nothing I could have done different to make a saving attempt at staying out of the unemployment line. So, once again, I move on and keep searching. And that is what life is pretty much about.
Searching.
We search for maturity, we search for a soul mate, we search for our youth and some search to stay alive while some are just searching for death. No matter how many answers we believe we have obtained through the years of our meaningful, yet meaningless, lives, there will always be a search for more answers.
And of course, there is the never-ending search for more time to find what we have never found.