You are the owner of all that you perceive...

...But you can't perceive apart from your vibration.

Feel your way, little-by-little, into a greater sense of abundance

by looking for the treasures that the Universe is offering you

on a day-to-day basis.

This so does not feel under my control. I spent the morning saying it would be a good day. I wrote it on my chalkboard at home. I wrote in my gratitude journal (still going strong) that I was grateful I had a job to go to.

This is so fuckin' schizophrenic. One day I like it here, one day I'm meh/sorta like it, and some days I'm like goddammit get me the fuck out of here. Today is one of the goddammit days. The kind of day where I become a clock watcher, which I haven't had to do in a while. Seriously, wtf?

I have to make this better. It IS up to me, right? But this is such a waste of any talent I might possess. I'm not even a writer here. I write very little copy and I can just really grab shit off the interwebs and edit it a bit and voila, copy without any input of my own. But oh, why not put in your input anyway? I do. But then it takes longer. And my numbers aren't as good. WTF, I HAVE NUMBERS?

I need this paycheck. I need stable employment. But I feel so alone here 90% of the time. I'm like, what am I doing? Seriously, what the fuck am I doing with my entire day? Web surfing and what amounts to data entry? S sent me a card that said I'd get writing experience and a paycheck to buy tickets to go to shows. Half of that is correct. Friends visit the site and look at the blog posts and people immediately think that's what I write. Nooo, that's what I should be doing -- writing. I no longer have a business card that says Writer. It actually says Deals Coordinator. Sounds like a car salesman type gig. Ugh.

Shit. Shit. Shit. The editor job at UT was canceled. This cool Editor job at St. Ed's is just now reviewing applications -- but it has the title, role, etc., that I should have. So how did I end up here? I do not want to switch jobs, even if the opportunity should present itself. I'm pretty sure I'll make less money elsewhere, for starters. And also, I keep looking at this job and questioning the Universe -- surely there is a reason you brought me here. So I can focus more on my life than my job is the 1 I have come up with. But that's really hard to do as my brain atrophies and there is no creativity to my day.  

I found this the other day: 

The feeling of boredom is often misunderstood and can actually mean we need to look under the layers for change.

OK, I'll look. I need change in my "real life," and I am AWARE of that. Yet, it's incredibly difficult when I spend my days so undernourished. Is that an excuse? Whatevs. Still doesn't change the day-to-day crappy feeling that looms over me when I am here. 

HOW THE FUCK DID THIS HAPPEN?

When we are uncomfortable, it is good in a way because it's a way the body tells us we need change; alerts us that something ain't right and it's time to do something about it. So, what do I need to change? It seems I need to change things that are not related to me in this desk with my 2 monitors, my bloodshot eyes, and a chair that I wish went higher. The cloudiness of the workday gets in the way. And I feel like I wasted my unemployment time soooo much. But that's how I roll. Couldn't do it then; regret now! :)

I am at a loss. It took me such a long time to come to terms with the fact that I AM a writer and a really talented one at that. But here I am not a writer. And that hurts. I swore I would never lose that part of me again. And I swore I would continue to do it professionally, late as I may be to the game, because I owe it to myself.

So again, how and WHY did I end up here?

It is what it is. What is it?

I poured it out in email and text.from both, this is what i wrote.  Sending it out there via email, FB mssgs and blog post. Seeing so many layers in the words. the email that got me writing this evening asked me Where are you? I see it's actually a deeper question in there for me. This is where I am.

I'm bored and I'm tired. I sit all day in front of 2 monitors while my eyes get red. I feel myself aging as I sit there. I told my friend that if she's in HSN hell, then I'm in purgatory. I spend all day on the internet and I miss My Own internet time of blogs and friends and inspiration and creativity.

I don't want a new job. I'd just really wish to like this one. I don't get these people. It's feeling too monotonous and lonely. There's fun humor but no real conversation. I feel old and alone and my eyes get really red and I can't see and it's so uncomfortable. My makeup fades quickly and I can feel that I look tired and grey instead of bright and smiling. I must look like 100 yrs old at times. I feel like 100 several times a day.

Monotony and boredom suck the life outta me. Not cool.

I feel so "busy with nothing." Maybe I have wandered into an existential or absurdist play b/c nothing feels authentic. (read that both ways. that there is no thing that feels real. and that the nothingness is the only thing that is.)                                     

I'm OK, but I can't lose myself (My Self) to a desk job that makes me feel blah. I hate just working for a paycheck. Sure, at some point it can get better, but I am seriously in a strange haze, out of touch with everyone, everything, and myself.

It's interesting that as I was writing I discovered I miss authenticity and "life" most of all. I like them, but not a one of my coworkers would have any idea what I mean.

On my FB status I asked, What am I missing? Meaning what am I not getting? And I meant it initially as  "ok, I literally don't understand this place" statement. But looking at the word "missing" and then having the words "not getting" follow that, then I see the other level. Something IS missing. There's something I'M not getting.

It's an opportunity to learn more about mySelf and what's important to me deep down. Why am I feeling what I'm feeling? It's a question to sit with, to live in, for now.

As always... who knows...

(but I do wish I felt physically better. at least my eyes.)