I’m a hobo, so join my Ukulele Club.

I mention the Hoboness because it was the subject of a teary-eyed conversation I had with my brother very late last night.

We were basically discussing my life plans, and I merely recognized that, despite my best efforts, hoboness may be unavoidable.

(I looked up what a hobo was online, to make sure I wasn’t being especially offensive when nonchalantly calling myself one, and basically, the odds that I eventually become a shiftless migratory worker without a penny to my name seem pretty good. I might actually be worse off than a hobo, because I have quite a bit of unpaid student loans hanging over my head.)

I really am trying to avoid such a future, despite what certain loving and concerned individuals in my family might or might not think. I’m not purposely going through life and failing at one form of employment after another. I’m not seriously trying to travel around the country as a musician and support myself that way (Though…I’m definitely not ruling it out). I intend to have some sort of plan of what to do with my future, I just haven’t exactly figured it out yet.

Which is horrible. Twenty-three and I haven’t figured out my life yet!  …

But, I’m not alone.

Unemployed, and quite confused, and seeking an answer and a form of existence that’s something above hobohood, there are more than the one of us. I know of at least two of us.

Actually, more.

For, who really knows, absolutely certainly, without a question, what they are going to do with their life? At every moment? And is permanently employed in a career that will support them indefinitely?


Things change. Everybody has the potential to become a hobo at some point. You just have to be penniless and unemployed…but apparently actually seeking employment. (Different from a “tramp”, who only works when required, or a “bum”, who does not work at all (Which is interesting because it means that every time my sister tenderly called me a ‘lazy bum’, because I would not fetch her a cup of water or refused to perform some other form of work for her, she may have technically been a little bit right…Minus the lazy part…There is a difference between refusing to do work because you are the youngest child trying to exert what little control you have over your life, and simply refusing to do work because you are lazy. I rarely refused out of sheer laziness.))

And so, my point is, I may become a hobo at some point. Because life is crazy and things happen that you have no control over, and yes, I am starting graduate school, and intend to be one of those “employed” people at the end of it, working toward having at least a penny to my name, but hey, an asteroid could fall through space and destroy my school and my bank and then I’d have to figure out a new plan. ANYTHING COULD HAPPEN.

But I’m trying to think positively, and I’m actually trying, and hopefully no asteroids fall.

Also, I’m joining a ukulele club that a nice lady who saw me singing at open mic night invited me to help start up.

Because, I can’t be a hobo if I’m in a ukulele club, I’ll just be a poor, struggling artist….and if an asteroid hits the coffee shop, then I can just play ukulele on the streets.

…Like a traveling musician, trying to support herself with money earned from music. (Yet again, a path that I am not entirely ruling out, like hoboness…Except I could potentially choose the struggling musician life even if I was not forced into it by a falling asteroid.)

Anyway, if you play ukulele and know me in real life, you should probably join my club.

Or not.

We’ll see what happens.


Have a lovely Sunday.

– writingcatherine




About writingcatherine

This started as a documentation of my adventures in Europe...but hey, life's an adventure in itself.
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