I think I'm pissed

OR should I just say, FUCK YOU, BATTERIES! Except that's  my rallying cry.

I am sitting outside on my porch or whatever it is. And of course i wish I actually liked it. but I do love sitting outside when the weather is cooler and things are silent. Then again, I am pissed. Because I live on the 1st floor, NOT BY CHOICE. I originally was gonna get a 2nd flr apt and then they're like, oh wait, your dog weighs  more than 50lbs, so the rule is that if pets are over 50lbs, you can only get a 1st floor apt. Which pisses me off b/c of the windows. the windows are almost ceiling to floor length, which means ain't no way I can open them at night. It's like a goddamn perfect crawl space. Tonight I was like, OK, let me give it a try. But uh-uh because (1) it's obvious anyone fits through that and I am terrified of shit like that and (2) even if i could cope with that, once i actually raised the window, the screen was dirty. Not a little dirty. Like let me throw some dirt on it dirty. My last year or months or whatever in SF were very, very difficult, to say the least. But there are a couple of things I'll always treasure. The rooftop, from where you could see the night sky. But most of all, the fact that I could sleep with the windows open. You see, I have mad love for fresh air. For air, really. Come to my apt and you'll find every ceiling fan on high, at max speed. I barely even notice it -- it's just normal to me.

I remember sleeping over someone's house once and waking up in the wee hours of the morning and seeing that the 2 windows were closed. And there was no fan. It wasn't hot in there or anything, but I still remember the feeling of suffocation that came over me. I kept thinking, I can't breathe, I can't breathe. Now here I am where I might actually get to experience fall weather except not so much. I hate it when it's warm in my apt and cooler outside -- as long as we're not talking winter.

So, that pisses me off. I want the simple pleasure of fresh air and I feel DENIED.


It is still relatively early, just past 10pm CST. It's been months and I am still not used to CST. C'mon, seriously, it's just downright odd. It throws off my internal clock, maybe because that clock seems so tied into my TV schedule. But "having" to be done with everything and in front of the TV by 7pm is insane. I mean, I can't watch everything in DVR! Let's just say that irks me. We'll leave "pisses me off" for the more "important" things.

Have I not mentioned to everyone I know (almost) that I loathe my job? And I am pissed about that. I am grateful to be employed, of course, no doubt, and I DO NOT want that to change. But shit, it feels so soul-less where I am. i can't be me. I work with these kids in their 20s and, as I have told several people, they are just so passionless that I fear for the future of humankind. I keep thinking of my last job. I had coworkers and acquaintances there, but I also had friends. And no matter what level I knew you on, we had ACTUAL CONVERSATIONS. I liked the movie "Superbad" and I like immature films people my age aren't supposed to like and I enjoy all that stupid humor, but not in person. Because I am not 24. Because I relate on a  different level. Because I have no desire to get to know any of these people better, if that were even possible. I am such the anomaly, that all I can do is embrace that status. If I was more motivated, I could be the weirdo. I mean, in a way I already am. I am the Sesame Street example of "one of these things is not like the other." When my coworker (the one that pseudo trains me b/c I have to ask her shit b/c no one is officially assigned to train me, seriously, wtf?) was born, I was bitchy and depressed and suicidal and in love with George Michael. Now I try to not be bitchy, I try to keep depression at bay, maybe for once I am not suicidal, and I still love George Michael. (I must take this time to wish him well. We are all with you, George, and you will get through this. You do not belong in prison, and all of your fans know this. We have never forsaken you, for over 25 years, and you know you have the most loyal of fans who will never desert you.) Ha, how would I ever explain to any of my coworkers that George Michael saved my life? Not that I would want to. Not that they know who he is (and I like it that way). But when I was14 there were no cell phones or internet. There was me, in my room, alone, sad, and a voice that came through my record player (vinyl) or radio and gave me hope.

My workplace is so quiet it is unnerving. Sure, the kids talk to each other and stuff, but mostly it's a sea of headphones and cell phones on vibrate. The "real" phones do not ring. The only time I have used my work phone was to set up my voicemail, which was a totally unnecessary thing to do, as I have found out. I am used to coworkers taking a break to talk to their spouses, children, boyfriends, girlfriends, friends, parents... Because that is NORMAL. All you hear at this place, if anything at all, is a slight buzz that indicates that someone is receiving a call or a text. I used to keep my cell phone in my handbag during the workday and never paid much attn to it. Now I keep it near me because it feels like my only connection to the outside world.

And here's another pissy thing. I feel bad. I actually FEEL BAD about not liking my job. So many people would kill for a job. So many people would kill for a job that seems so meaningless and monotonous and yet you get paid (decently) for this shit. I've said it before, though, it's like I am in a state of atrophy -- my eyes from staring at the 2 monitors, or my body from sitting at a desk all day without any walking over to someone else's desk to chat or something like is NORMAL. or my brain from the mindless numbness of it all. But can't I persevere? Can't I make it better? I mean, it seems like I make it sound worse than it is. Or do I? I dunno anymore. All I know is that I am sitting here not wanting to go to bed because the sooner I fall asleep the sooner it will be morning... And that is always a bad sign. Not wanting to go to bed the night before because you don't want to go to work the next morning.

Everything feels hazy, and I REALLY HATE THAT which means THAT REALLY PISSES ME OFF. Are you serious that I'm supposed to STILL be job hunting? Yes, with the security of employment, but that doesn't mean the opportunities are there. I've re-subscribed to the lists and all that. There's not much out there. Do I expect too much by wanting to be relatively happy at my place of employment? HELL TO THE NO. Because for me. that is a crucial factor. I keep saying, I made the choice, the very clear choice, at one point in my life to not be the person who spends 8 or 9 or 10 hours a day miserable, watching the clock, etc. That's just waaaayyy too many hours to spend in that state. I'm still in the process (and always will be) of rediscovering me after going thru (almost) hell and back. I refuse to sacrifice that -- what I have learned, where I am going and growing as a person... But... But... And there it is. Shouldn't I just do my job? Shouldn't I just do other things to try and fulfill my life instead? There's nothing wrong with that sentence except the "instead" part. Because that's not how I want to live my life.

At one point, I miraculously realized that I wanted to live. Not just that "I don't want to die," but that more so, I actually want to live. I don't know if I've ever fully felt that before. And don't want to give that up. I already had to convince me, who has been half in love with suicide with most of her life, that wanting to live is OK. I ain't giving that up now. What I mean is, there is no "life" where I work. I sit there. I surf the Interwebnets as part of my job. I write stupid blurbs. I post these things online. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. There is no creativity or sense of accomplishment or anything fulfilling in any way whatsoever about what I do. Don't tell me to find that one fulfilling thing b/c I swear to god it is not there.

So tonight I am pissed. I am pissed because i am confused and tired and scared and frustrated and fed up. I am pissed because at one moment tonight I just wanted to cry. And (1) I COULDN'T which really pisses me off and then (2) I SHOULDN'T because omg in the big picture this is so not that bad.

I am pissed. I am pissed that I am pissed. I feel guilty. I feel stupid. I feel like I am being ungrateful. I feel the judgment of sure, there i go again, nothing is ever enough or good enough. I am pissed because I don't know what to do. I am pissed b/c once again it feels like this uphill battle, and here's where the pity comes in, the sadness that one again it is all on me, i am alone, i have to struggle and do it myself on my own as always. and fuck it, i hate the pity.

Fuck You, Batteries. I want things to change for the better. I want my robe and furry slippers and a trip around the corner to the market to make things better my making them (literally) clearer. I want hope and music and love.

And there I leave it... because to go further is to sound like a total idiot loser girl. And I'm not really in the mood for that. There's plenty of time for that come tomorrow morning (haha).

i am pissed. i am uncomfortable. i know that the place of discomfort is the place of growth, i get that. that's ok and can be exhilarating at times. but i hate hazy and i hate not being secure (and yes, no one's ever secure, whatever). but i at least want solid ground under my feet. i don't feel strong or vibrant or motivated or smart or clear enough to think. yes, i know, "feel" my way out of this, into this, etc.... but i want the paycheck survival part to be settled. and good. not to still be iffy. i don't want this to consume my life. and for all it might teach me, it's vary hard for me to not feel like i am on shaky ground, and at that place i am not so much into finding the delightful introspection and fabulous journey as i am keen on: wtf, i need some security, like now.

it's now closer to 11. just writing stream of consciousness as always. still delaying the work morning. thinking wouldn't it be better to stay up most of the night and catch up on shows or reading or something? shouldn't i stay up and watch Craig? well yes, of course to that part, but the anxiety of the looming morning hangs in the atmosphere even as I watch my gorgeous Scotsman make dirty jokes.

2 weeks (less) until ACL. i can't wait for the escape of it, the going home of it. and yet i wonder, who is it that is going there? me? what me? again, all is cloudy. i hate hazy. i hate stuck. no wonder i (think) i'm pissed.

anyway, i gotta pee now.