The When-All-Else-Fails-Plan

As of tomorrow, it will be another week of unemployment and sitting on the futon, frozen with terror as my debts rise and the sense of uselessness takes over. On the way into town to spend the morning at the CUNY library to search for jobs, I heard a woman's beautiful operatic voice rise through the echoing subway station and it hit me: the memory of my if-all-else-fails plan.

I remember reciting this plan before I moved to New York. After spilling the automatic response of what I'd planned to do in terms of a job in New York to everyone who asked, I'd add at the end, "Well if all else fails, I'll go into the subway and busk it." Of course, I never really believed in this plan, because I am a CHICKEN, but it sounded good and romantic.

This morning, as I raced to another train with my dripping umbrella, it struck me upon hearing this woman sing, and looking over at her, leaning against the wall in her overcoat and dress, and her little hat at her feet, brimming with a couple of dollars, that I may have just hit the moment that ALL ELSE HAS FAILED. I need some income--ANY income. When you are at a moment of desperation, you start counting your resources--among your resources are your skills. Playing guitar and singing is one of my skills--maybe it's time to use them in the most basic sense.

I have to be honest, I am terrified to do this. Nothing says SOCIALLY AWKWARD like a woman standing among a crowd of hurried New Yorkers, with a guitar, singing songs about peace, love, and misunderstandings. Everywhere I go though, there are people who do this. Some of the most TALENTED and GIFTED people are doing this everyday, on the street, inside subway cars, in the corners of subway stations. You are BRAVE, people. As of tomorrow, I may be among them. More grist for the mill, as they say.

Again, I beg of you, wish me luck.