It’s not many tabs, as I’ve only recently begun to use “Thaddeus’ iMac” again.
(Thaddeus is my brother; I’d left my Mac at his place in Lafayette when I was packing up my little Chevy Cruze to hop on the road to California back at the tail end of 2016. I’d ‘bout given it to him, I guess. Him being a computer geek, he’d reconfigured the whole shit or something. When he moved to New York, he left it at his parents’ house in Vacherie and they mailed it to me when I got a desk for it to rest on within my first year of living in Los Angeles. Nine years later, I still owe mom and pop a hundred bucks towards shipping costs. Anyway, I reset this sucker to factory settings and all, yet never figured out how to change the device name back to my Mac, ergo, Thaddeus’ iMac.)
I’d been using my Macbook, until the screen went out some weeks ago, which forced me to say farewell to my offline home. I turned my cell phone service back on and got a router installed for WiFi. [sigh]. I haven’t even done any video editing nor heavy streaming, and I haven’t played a video game since Nintendo’s Gamecub, so why this computer is acting slow, I don’t know.
Don’t tell me B.Barry’s point about me expecting products to last forever applies to this too. Okay, it’s a… [goes to find details About This Mac]
Well, well, well, two-thousand-twelve. Hm. That was some time ago, wasn’t it?
I don’t care. How many years does that make it if we’re in 2026? Thirteen-and-a-half years, I’ve had this iMac for 13.5 years. Or, 12. It’s from late 2012, but I could’ve bought it in the latter part of the following year. I wouldn’t be surprised if I still have the original receipt; that’s so like me. I still have thee original packaging.
Yes, I want a computer to work as well now as it did a decade ago, and I want it to continue working equally as well a decade from now. That’s what I pay top dollar for, not for the name, not because I admire the founder’s fame. I want my sh*t to last forever!
I’ll have to be more delicate about my usage, which is what brings me here. To be able to close all these computer tabs without asking the system to reopen them, while still being able to get back to them, I’ll link them all here for myself.
Tabs Currently Open on My Computer
Going Back to School
Three tabs open on my computer browser in this very moment relate to me returning to school.
As random and wasteful as it may seem, I want to get a Master’s degree in Biokinesiology from USC. I’ve talked about this to myself before, either here on this personal blog where I figuratively think aloud, or in my handwritten journal, or both. In short, I enjoy school, which has led me to occasionally browse offerings at various academic institutions and most recently set my sights on that degree program at USC. I scheduled a meeting with an admissions counselor and all, only to remember, after taking up this lady’s time, YOU DON’T HAVE ANY MONEY, TK!
A Master’s degree from USC will run a girl a good 100k!
I need you to be soooo f’ing for real right now, my baby. You’re scraping together these gigs to get a lil’ 2k together for a roof over your head every month; where tf is another 5k/month gonna come from?!
Pilates Teacher Certification
At the top of 2026, I was walking through Barnes and Noble and saw a beautiful book with a drawing off the human body on the cover, “Science of Pilates,” it read. After contemplating for far too long, going back multiple days to flip through the pages again, comparing pilates’ texts from other authors, reading reviews, I bought the book. (I have a thing against being wasteful). I’d already considered getting certified in pilates in the past few years, simply because I like learning, but decided it wouldn’t be worth the hefty investment if I had no intentions to teach.
At an experiential marketing event where I was the Lead promotional model, a fellow brand ambassador mentioned how she’ll start taking Italian in the fall for a few bucks. When she told me how much, I said, “what?!” and instantly wondered if wherever she’s going offers French too. Do you know how much I’ve paid for minimal hours of instruction at Alliance Francaise Los Angeles?! Girl, you’ve got to tell me more.
A little over a week after being tipped off to an affordable option for learning, I was making a login on the CCC portal. Yep, California Community College.
Obtaining a Pilates Certification from a Community College
Taking classes at community college? Why didn’t I think of that?!
Community college had never crossed my mind, ever, about anything, let alone pilates!
(I told y’all, me and academics went together real bad, leaving me with no reason to even know anything about earning credits elsewhere, as my University matriculation began while I was still an underclassmen in high school).
I went to Santa Monica College’s website to browse course offerings and see if my co-worker from that day was really telling the truth about how affordable it would be to take a class. Some kind of way, clicking and scrolling, I saw a “PILATES” button, my eyes bulged and I couldn’t help but to click. This made me forget all about French!
The three tabs I have open on my browser concerning going back to school are:
First, when I discovered taking pilates at a community college, I went to the course catalog. What are you actually teaching? What will the program track consist of? What’s the schedule of classes? How many hours of instruction make up the program? So on and so forth, I needed to know if this is the real-deal, in-depth learning, or a gimmick how everybody and dey mama has a “certification” or course to sell of some sort. After combing over the program summary, learning outcomes and required courses, I decided that it’d be worth my while and headed to find where I apply.
Second, searching for enrollment to this specific program, I fell upon the Kinesiology and Athletics Department at SMC. (An initial page had told me to visit the Dance Department website for more information, but that must’ve been its former home, as I didn’t find enrollment information there). I read through the Pilates and Yoga Programs page, okay, okay, yeah, I’m into this…
(Oh, I also looked up the published schedule of classes for fall to see how my potential school schedule would look. It was from there that I found the Pilates and Yoga Programs page and applied. In browsing the Santa Monica College Class Schedule, I noticed both core courses for Pilates were showing “CLOSED”, which made me wonder about an override or when others would become available — and a student would look a lil’ funny making such a request before she’s even a student [inserts Mean Girls: you don’t even go here], so yeah, lemme follow the order of operations and enroll at SMC).
I applied.
(I will say, it was a lengthy, mildly headache-inducing process. I don’t know what I was thinking, applying for a community college would be as quick and easy as registering for a work conference or something? No. These folks want your entire academic and life history! Create an account with California Community College, now page after page after page of personal information, now verify identity with some sort of app that my phone doesn’t have, now this, now that. Goodness gracious, worse than filing taxes. Two days later, I still haven’t heard anything back. Seems I’ll have to go show my ID in-person since that dumb a** ID.me bs wouldn’t work either, that’s what the portal said I’ll have to do. These folks probably think I’m a scammer, shoot.)
What I did receive was an automated email about applying for Pell Grants. Now, I’m pretty sure this doesn’t apply to me, an adult that already has a bachelor’s degree, but we’ll see. [shoulder shrugs]
It’s almost 5 o’clock in the evening now and tomorrow is a “holiday” everybody has hopped on the bandwagon to recognize, Juneteenth, then it’s the weekend, so I’ll go up to Santa Monica College Monday. Should I call first? I don’t why I have to verify in-person anyway… who tf steals an identify to get into college?! And how would the identity thief not only get my social security number, but my school records too?! Hm, I guess it’s not that hard… to a thief. Shame. You know how much better you could make the world with such wit and persistence?! It can’t be easier to be a criminal than a cop or a cobbler. I digress, I’m getting off subject… Next.
Getting a Big Girl Job
This wasn’t even supposed to be a full blog post, no. I was just getting on here right quick to list these links for me to get back to after restarting my computer on a clean slate, clear up the RAM (if this got dawg on domain that I pay for and rarely use is holding it, my computer doesn’t have to… if you paid attention in computer class, you’ll get what I’m saying; ‘cause I’m for darn sure no Thaddeus and I get it).
Yeah, let me make this quick(er).
I need a full-time job, girl. Or, a consistent job, even if it’s not full-time. I’m tired of fighting the completely freelance fight. It was all fun and games when my bills were a fraction of what they are now.
(I was working full-time from March through September of last year when I decided to sign a lease for my first solo apartment, then was released from said full-time employment the next day [melting face]…. No exaggeration, the very next afternoon. So, I’ve been fighting for my life since September — thee only reason I’m not drowning nine months later is thanks to the practice of living well below my means for some of those months while I was working full-time. At this point, that savings account keeping me afloat has all but deflated. I need to manufacture another life vest, baby, and it’s looking as though that may have to come by way of full-time employment at somebody else’s company.)
Most companies and roles are not appealing to me because I don’t care enough about what the company is doing to give it forty hours of my week. I value life and leisure, more than money. And I care about our planet and the living creatures with which I inhabit it. FashionNova, a company of which I’d never apply, could offer me a 100k salary to come work in that big, beautiful company headquarters office over there on Camden in Beverly Hills and I wouldn’t take it. (Yes, I’ve seen it, without looking for it. I’m always bicycle riding or walking AROUND). I have to come sit up in y’all cold walls for the majority of my waking hours, pretend I’m not catching the passive aggression and play into office politics, while being a part of an engine that pollutes our earth?! Ab-so-f-ing-lute-ly not.
Oh yeah, quicker, TK, quicker.
If anyone reads this, or if the future me reads this, a future me that is more mentally stable and has the reigns on my roaming brains, we can see what I go through every day, all day. (I wish I could say this is only on the page. I wish I could say that as a writer, it’s only when I’m writing that I go on and on and thoughts are constantly zipping from every direction, but it’s always. Actually, it’s probably worse when I’m not writing. Writing forces me to pay attention to my thoughts as they arise, or, at least, allows me to see where I’ve gone or where I was going. That being said, back to where I was going…
Against my natural, free-flowing being, I’ll be getting a full-time job, unless The Lord says otherwise SOON. How would He even say otherwise though? The blessing is often in the work we’re not doing. We all know what the good book says, faith without works is dead. I’m not on the casting sites, I’m not in acting/commercial classes to get in front of agents and casting directors, I’m not seeking and submitting self-tapes — how tf ima land a speaking role with a big, fat, union-enforced paycheck with reoccuring residuals?! HOW?! Faith?! Girl.
I very well know that I need to do the work, however, it’s difficult while in survival mode. Spending money while not making money is uncomfortable. I don’t know ‘bout for y’all, but for me, whew child… barely got bill money, but forking over a thousand dollars for an acting class in hopes that somebody sees my a**?! The thought makes my chest tight. … People do it though! I know someone personally (I hope the person doesn’t stumble across this post), who has said to me directly, repeatedly, how rent hasn’t been paid in months, yet I’m at this person’s shows that are a part of a program for which this person had to pay, repeatedly! I’ve seen cars get involuntarily repossessed and all types of sh*t behind somebody out here investing in his dream. Uhnt uhn. As much as I know I need to do the work to land work in commercial acting or modeling or get contracts from content creation, I can’t be out here on my rear end. Ain’t no calling home for mommy and daddy to pay my rent (that’s an example of a much lighter “struggle” I’ve seen a friend experience while trying to make it in Los Angeles).
Working Where I Care
If I’m going to go work at somebody’s company, especially if I’m going to give these folks forty hours of my week, it has to be in a field where I care. I don’t care about getting people in over-priced, poorly produced clothing. I don’t care about increasing streaming account memberships for people to binge poorly-written shows. I don’t care about convincing the consumer that this product is better than the competitor product that’s exactly the same. In the words of favorite hoodrat hood-rapper, idgaf ‘bout nunnadet!
I want to do work that I find important, as I don’t care enough about earning money alone. If I’m going to part ways with the majority of MY day-to-day life, I have to feel as though I’m contributing to the greater good. I could explain what this means in further details, but I’ve already said that I was speeding it up and have yet to really speed it up. -_-
A couple of job opportunities have found their way before my eyes in the past couple of days that I could see myself caring a great deal about according to each organization’s mission.
I’ll save the why this work matters to me spiel for the job interview. (See how reminding myself to wrap it up allowed me to resist rambling? Ayeeee!)
The submission deadline for one is tomorrow (that’s why I should’ve been doing instead of talking about it), another the next week and another the week after that week.
Hm. Have I been procrastinating this entire time?
Using One Task to Procrastinate Another Task
Isn’t that something? I sat down at this computer at the top of the 1 o’clock hour and didn’t move from it ‘til around three when my Teedie Terri called me. Her and I were on the phone talking about her sister, my mama, for a little less than an hour and I came right back to this computer. It’s now half past six… and all I’ve done is this…
I’m not mad. At least I know what I’ve been doing, unlike when I stare at a wall while five hours drift away without a trace.
Hm, is that why I named this blog Written Traces, so I can trace it? Thank You, Holy Spirit.
It’s kinda weird for your mind to move so much that you can’t keep up.
This wasn’t planned, I wasn’t planning to go here. Writing revealed this to me. Yes, I’m writing, as I hope to one day maintain a habit of doing daily. Yes, this will be a blog post on my own domain. This time, did I waste it? No, but I may have misplaced it. I could’ve created a resume for that job opportunity in these five hours in front of the computer — that job application is time-sensitive, my personal blog is not.
I should’ve been working on finding full-time work. However, I could’ve been doom-scrolling on social media. At least I wasn’t doing the latter, right? Well, I wasn’t working on what I should’ve been working on, but at least I was doing something sorta productive… And that’s how I’ve f’d myself over time after time.
Hm, okay, I’ve recognized the error of my ways. I won’t beat myself up about it, which, boy am I great at! Instead, I’ve made a mental note and will be mindful in the future, the near future… Tomorrow.
I’ve used all of the sit-in-front-of-a-computer-and-formulate-words-into-sentences that I have in me for today. (Not really. I’ve sat and done exactly that for 14, 15 hours straight without even taking a piss break. We’re being more mindful to sustainability as a writer though, a point made by a TV writer named Alisha during Writer’s Guild Fest this past weekend in her virtual presentation about building a creative system. Could I keep going right now? Sure. Should I? Nah.)
Oh, there’s one more tab
[fingers tapping desk] [thighs meeting and separating quickly]
I’d essentially written an ENTIRE blog post and it’s gone. Squarespace freaking SUCKS!!!! WHAT THE ****!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I’d gone on to the next topic with a new title 1 header, broken it down into sub-categories with titre 2, further explained below those with titre 3 and had bullet points under each of these.
When Squarespace froze, I was expecting it to reopen with maybe the last few lines, or even few paragraphs gone, but ALL OF IT?! GONE?!?! IKYFLTM.
Squarespace may get a scathing email from me tomorrow. I know for a fact that I kept regularly pressing “enregistrer” to save. I know it!
[head drops into hands]
This’ll drive a big bitch to binge eat. What thee actual FUCK, Squarespace?!
It was a beautiful nice closing, I’d brought this all full circle. It’s touching 10 o’clock at night by the way and I haven’t left this desk since saying it was in the middle of the 6 o’clock evening hour. FOUR HOURS OF WORK! GONE!
I don’t even curse anymore, but Squarespace fucking sucks!!!!!!!! Fuck you, Squarespace, FUCK YOU!!!!!!!!!