I recently gave in my 2-week notice to The Odyssey. I thought that this would allow me to go out with a bang, rather than a ukulele-inspired whimper of an article. I thought that I would suddenly be bursting at the seems with ideas that leapt out of my brain squiggles and onto this virtual page. That has not happened. Instead, I still feel that I have absolutely nothing to write of any importance. Luckily, this is my second to last article, and not my last to last article, meaning that I still have a week to flounder around waiting for a Rocky of an idea to hit me in the face. I also just realized that, in terms of points, Rocky lost to Apollo in the first movie. Damn it.

But even if I were to come up with the mother of all topics, honestly, what would I accomplish? Overall, I am satisfied with what I have accomplished at this website, but come to think of it, “accomplished” may be a strong word. In the eyes of The Odyssey, I am fine. I provide a somewhat steady-stream of a small number of family friends and extended family members who will support my articles every week, regardless of whether or not their word count is over 100, or if the title was changed without my knowledge, or if I wrote the damn thing in my sleep. This is good for The Odyssey. They earn a guaranteed amount of shares and page-views per week, allowing for them to grow. By this logic, it is in their best interests to “hire” as many “writers” as possible. It doesn’t matter if the content is good, it just matters that there is a lot of it.

I have never received a cent from this company, which apparently surprises a lot of people. Then, they assume that I get some kind of class credit, which is also not true. It is though, technically, classified as an internship. I was asked recently why I do it, to which I say a totally noncommittal “I don’t know,” because honestly it’s kind of embarrassing. I want to be a writer, and yet I am writing for an organization that got its definition of “good content” out of Buzzfeed’s vomit bags.

At this point, you are probably wondering why I kept writing for this company. Honestly, I was desperate for a way to get published. I’m a college student without a well-established voice who’s gotta start somewhere. When the application process for The Odyssey took less than ten minutes, it seemed dumb not to apply, and then within the week, I had the job.

People who will share your articles think that they’re helping you. They’re not. They are helping The Odyssey, and that’s it. Weekly, The Odyssey will give out an incentive of $20 to the person at each school’s chapter whose article gets the most shares. So one person will get $20 if that school’s chapter has five writers or if that school has one hundred writers, the remainder gets nothing. After that, there is a system in place where you get small amounts of money for serious accomplishments. For instance, I recently saw a “success” story for a girl who had written a generic, “relatable” article that had gotten over 250,000 shares. That is very impressive for her. (It is important to mention, also, that a “share” is considered to be a like, a share, a comment, or really any interaction online.) The incentive pool, though, caps at $1,000. So, after making so much money for The Odyssey, this girl got $1,000 in return, (and the honor of being flaunted around as an example). No one can predict what will go viral, so The Odyssey takes as many normal college students as they can, gives them an opportunity to get published on a glorified blog, and reaps the rewards. It’s an incredibly smart play for them, and I am clearly not resentful in the least.

But the bizarre part of it all is, you reading this article is not getting money or exposure for me. You are helping The Odyssey, plain and simple. That is, if they publish this, and I assure you, I am endlessly curious to see if they do. It’s a Catch 22, really. People who dislike The Odyssey (for these, or other reasons), would enjoy this article, but by reading this article (presumably published on The Odyssey), they are making The Odyssey, not me, money, the opposite of what they want to do. I am putting myself into a lose-lose situation, and for some reason I’m okay with that.

That said, if they don’t publish this, I have one hell of a story to tell.

Are you there, HuffPost? It’s me, Miriam.

And, for what is likely the last time, have a picture of one of my favorite birds, the red-winged blackbird:

Does posting the same picture twice count as two pictures? Whatever.

That's all, folks.