I worked in the rain this weekend. My unpaid internship starts to feel more and more unpaid as the days goes go by and, four months in, I really needed to stay afloat. So I started looking for jobs that could subsidize my thrice weekly LA trips, preferably on the weekends. With a little luck, I landed an usher job at a nearby outdoor stadium. Its got nothing to do with my hopes and dreams and I am surely overqualified. But these are the things we do to stay afloat.

Of course, I wasn't about to go hating myself and my job. I reserved that black part of my heart for retail. At the very least, in this position, I wasn't tricking anyone into buying things they didn't need. I wasn't pressured to hit certain sales numbers by any means necessary. And, all things considered, I was pretty lucky to have any meager amount of money. It is about time that I get out of the well of self-pity and join the rest of the world.

So I did my job last weekend, in the rain. I had two layers under my uniform, and a flimsy windbreaker on top of that, and then a meaningless poncho on top of that. The stadium itself is already cold regardless of the weather because of how it traps wind. On this rainy, gusty day, I stood for a few hours and checked soggy tickets.

In minutes, my hair was drenched and I had to continuously wipe water off of my face so that I could breathe. I don't even get this wet in a shower. It was worst on my hands. They grew stiff in their clawed position and rules dictated that I could not keep them pocketed. I wished that I had been able to buy gloves in the morning, but I don't know if that would have helped.

I laughed wildly.

It's a weird way that I deal with situations. It might be light masochism on my part. I tend to get a delirious joy out of testing my limits, whether it be staying up without sleep or going without food or just working myself to dust. It's not something that I seek out or do often, only when the situation calls for it. But when I do, I tend to start laughing at the ridiculousness of it all, at how silly I must look, and at how silly the world must be for me to even be here giving a shit.

It's hard to explain. Either way, laughing in the pouring rain is something you should try some day.

I'm not going to pretend that I felt this uncanny joy during the whole 5 hour shift. Eventually, the cold penetrated my layers and I started to pretend I was a prune underwater. My thoughts bounced back and forth between "this is fucking awful" to "stop being a big baby and check tickets." The latter won out, not because it was stronger, but because there is really no other option other than to cease your baby noises.

It didn't help that I had recently stumbled upon some pretty cool job listings. They are the kind that you read over and think that this is the missing piece in your jigsaw puzzle. You compare your resume to the requirements, and they fit, and you could see yourself doing pretty well in that position. In fact, you see a lot - you see your problems go away, your future starting to open up and maybe you even allow yourself a small measure of hope. Then you snap back to reality, in the rain with the poncho hood flapping in your face, and you get angry at yourself for entertaining that fantasy.

I didn't want to set myself up for disappointment, and there is something awfully juvenile and arrogant about fantasizing about having a certain job. Shouldn't my day dreams be reserved for something more whimsical? When did I stop dreaming about being a magic ninja?

I picked up my check for 6 hours of training from the week before and walked back to my car a good half mile away. The train of wet, jacketed ushers was a sorry sight, but we were all doing it for our own reasons. Staying afloat, paying a bill, padding the income. It all feels like the end of the world to each and every one of us, so we stand in the rain for hours and get belligerent drunk fans in our faces.

A co-worker, a woman in her 50's, makes small talk with me as we trudge along the puddles to the employee parking lot. "Drive safe!" I say before we split. She says thanks, and I wonder if she's having second thoughts about this job, or if she just sucks it up like an adult and gets to work. I guess that's the thing about being 24 for me: I'm always second guessing if I'm having an adult reaction to the things around me.

Still, I resolve to work as long as I can here, because the schedule fits and any little bit helps. The word 'little' is apt. I open up the check in the car as I wait for the engine to heat up. It comes out to $47 for 6 hours of work, meaning my time in the rain will come somewhere around $39. A little grade school math means I'll be getting about $160 every other week, which starts to feel like drops in the bucket. The powers that be are making it rain outside, but it remains a drought in my wallet.

Then again, that's still more than 0. That still fights back the weird financial anxieties that keep coming back. Even if this job makes me cold and grumpy, I have an internship that makes me happy and hopeful. So how about being an adult for once, you lunatic?

I grumble and I drive and I turn on my wipers. More than anything, I am dissatisfied that all my problems seem to be money related, with a simple and out of reach solution: a real job. Admirable people like Dave Eggers and Louis CK have said that our 20's are for paying dues and working our way up the ladder. We temp, and work the shittiest jobs, because everyone in their 30's already did that and this is their reward.

Something about the best years of our youth being dedicated to the worst jobs seems unfair at first. But then I realized that's just because no one told us about this, that college is not a magic cure all, and that your degree doesn't mean you're exempt from meeting old high school classmates at your shitty job. Especially if you've bravely decided to choose a creative career.

I don't blame anyone, not really. I understand that this is just the way life is. It's the same as working through an illness. You live in a fog, you have lucid dreams and do whatever you can to feel better. Some days you can't get out of bed, some days you feel like complete health is right around the corner. You go up and down. You wait until you feel better.