piss-tol-whipped

We'll be seeing each other again.

WISH ME LUCK.

I should be doing so much more with myself.


Shit makes me sick. Sick in the way that I've literally wasted Six years of my life.

I'm recalling past relationships with friends and former partners, and I am stunned at how little I've changed.
In six years, these people have managed to accomplish what would take me another ten years to do.
College, occupations, vehicles, housing, traveling.
You're going to Hong-Kong for three months.
You're just graduating community college and transferring to university to accomplish your music career.
You're returning home from a tour in South Korea, but first you'll take two weeks to travel around Europe.
You're setting up stages around the country, your company pays your way, and you get to see new cities and meet new people everyday.
You're moving in to your first house.

I'm sitting in my room, in a house I still live in with my mom, and I'm going through everyone's accomplishments and
thinking to myself how much of a fucking lazy bastard I am.
I'd cry if I wasn't so busy being envious.


You start thinking about what the other side is like. If theres anything at all. Science and logic tells you there isn't anything.
Just the big sleep before you decompose. And I'm wondering if it even matters.
Another six years of sitting on the fence. Being content, but not satisfied. Too scared to end, too unmotivated to change.

Six more years of watching other people excel and achieve.
Six more years of avoiding questions like, "How have you been?", "What're you doing now?"

Always five steps behind the bare minimum.
Never fully happy with what I can do, because its never enough for anyone or myself.

Getting a job, man. Dark ages.
My own place to live. Outdated. Old hat.



Regretting that I dropped out of school at 15.
Regretting that it took two years in California to get my Diploma, and I couldn't even manage that.
Regretting that I spent another two years doing nothing with my life before finally getting my GED.
Regretting that I didn't save my money when I had a well paying job.


You learn more about yourself the more mistakes you make.
By that I mean, when you're not doing anything, when you're wasting away, you have enough time to fester in the past.

I'm 10 years old again.

BestBuy broke up with me. Not recently. Like, a week ago, or something. BestBuy said they weren't making enough money, so they broke up with me. How nice of BestBuy to do that. Because I'm not down with no scrubs. So I'm happy they made that decision for me. I wouldn't have been able to. I would've stuck it out until one of us committed suicide.


Anyway. Yeah. I'm without a job. Whats been almost two weeks feels like a month. I didn't officially know what day it was until I turned on my computer. I never check the time without consulting my computer first. Does anyone else ever do that? My desktop, is literally next to my bed. When I'm feeling dangerous, I stretch my hand out and flip the switch, wait three minutes for the modem and router to go blue/green, and I press that button.

So thats been my life without a job. I complained I worked too much, until the check came. And I'm like, fuck everything else. Because hours were hitting top. I was a mere occasional worker, bumped up to full time in less that two months.

I told everyone how I received the little piece of paper from the store manager that asked if I'd like to ditch the title of Occasiona/Seasonal and move on up to Part-time/Full-time. Granted that it didn't guarantee me a job. Oh the fine print! I told everyone in the department how I got one. And now this.

BAM!

Grace, I just don't see us being together. I just don't see us taking this to the limit, to the next step in our lives. I'm sorry, its not you. Its me.


I've been yelled at by customers and talked down to. So I developed a thick skin since the 5 months of working for BestBuy. I could handle another break up.

Sure, I said. No, no. I understand.

Man did I ever look like an idiot.





I've been uber grouchy lately. Just, terribly foul and sour at most anything. I can blame it on the period. Because I'm not a bitch. Not entirely. Not so much as to be told I am. At least not yet. But I'm getting there. I'm at a level of annoyance and sensitivity where anything will piss me off. I took a nap. Because when that level hits the red, its like your car overheating and it automatically knows to shut off before it explodes into a flame that will kill you.

And I did just that. I fell right to sleep. Woke up at 1:19am. Went to the bathroom.

I dug around in the freezer and grabbed some ice cream. Cookies n' Cream extreme double chocolate. Mixed with honey n' oats cereal and diced bananas.

Like cocktail hellbent on drowning my woes. Just the laziest piece of shit you'd know.

And I'm not by any means attempting to garner sympathy. I write this as a means to show how pathetic I can be instead of taking my misfortunes and trucking on like a bad ass.

Proving to my ex, BestBuy, that I don't fucking need you.



So far, you've won. Because I lack the energy to start applying for new jobs, or pulling up my resume and tweaking it.



I'll get around to it. Don't you worry.

I laughed at myself, as I usually do, when I talk to me.
I said, In a month, a month of just relaxing. Then back to work with us.

Like magically I can be like, OKAY. THATS ENOUGH FUCKING AROUND. THATS ENOUGH SKYRIM AND REDDIT.COM AND ICANHASCHEEZBURGER.COM. Time to head back to work. Time to do the 9-5 like everyone else.

Because I can do that.

It took me three months to finally get another job. And they broke up with me. My former job, that is. Time to change my employment status on facebook to BestBuy Mobile 2011-2012.


Anyway,

I'll rebound from this shit. I always do somehow. Maybe I'll find something I actually enjoy doing. Hopefully.

Its Thanksgiving.


And I'm working from Midnight(friday) to 1pm. HEEEE 13 HOURS.

There has been an overwhelming sense of committing failure lately. And I've heard that failure is humility; humility makes us more human.

When you live and breathe in an environment like this, you feel less and less as a human and more like a drone.

Kids in my middle school 8th grade classes had gone beyond dreaming by verbally finalizing what they would be doing ten years from now.
I'm 22. And I'm still wondering what I'm going to be tomorrow. Its times like these that I wish for anarchy.

When I day dream, I imagine myself living in a rustic cottage some where in Ireland. Under a different sky. I don't know much about Europe. And I'm ignorant to their
customs.

Sometimes I wonder if I was still a kid, and I knew of my future, if then I would be more inclined to change myself. Because this is not where I expected myself to be.