A dollar under water keeps on dreaming for me

Even though I kind of like writing, two things have kept me from ever, ever considering writing as a profession, being:

1) I don't write creatively. There's a lot of writing that goes on that isn't overtly creative, like Sedaris-esque essays or no-one-cares critical academic work, but the former usually requires a level of funny which, frankly, I am not, and the latter would require a PhD and a considerable portion of my soul.

2) Writing, as a profession, is fairly unique in that there's not only no job assurance (like any artsy-type aspiration), but there's a discouraging lack of any standard of talent. To be an actor, you need to know how to act at least passably. To be a philosopher, you need to know how to think. To be a doctor, you need to know how to doct. To be a writer, you need to know how to write. Sometimes. Or you need to be a celebrity. Or know one. Or be a politician. Or you need to be scandalous. I'm sure scientists or whatever can relate to being talented but overlooked in a narrow job market, but I doubt the chemistry community would ever receive the extra punch in the face of having their genius work ignored while Britney Spears' mom makes hundreds of thousands of dollars in their field for no logical reason other than a consumer base with a standard for quality about as high as Stalin's respect for human life.

Quirky Things About My Apartment for Next Year That I'm Excited for, But If I Were a Real Live Adult, I Might Consider Negatives:
- Squeaky floors that slant slightly to the right
- A resident squirrel dependent on periodic offers of Cheerios
- A random room far too small to be a real room but ridiculously large to be a closet
- Taking another step into a grown-up life