I really am tired of raging. I feel as though I'm just a walking bitch wagon, and I don't even have that pms excuse the ladies always rave about. Still, there's something slightly therapeutic about screaming my frustration at a computer monitor knowing only about 3 people I actually know will hear (or in this case, read) it.
Dear reader, it has been such a long time. I've forsaken you for other, more pressing things, like staying sane, paying bills (yes, despite popular belief, I do have them), and I'm sure there were some other very important things that my scorched mind hasn't quite remember the words for.
The other day I literally forgot the ENTIRE ENGLISH LANGUAGE for a space of about five minutes. That's how burnt out I am. Words were coming out of folks mouth that sounded familiar, but were basically gibberish. Apparently I was speaking Klingon (which is weird, that's one of the few fantasy languages I only know a spattering of) or some shit.
A job kind of fell into my lap a few months ago. December 5th, to be exact. Up to that point, I was eyeballs deep in school work and job hunting. The job I ended up finding is full time, which is nice... I guess... but I feel a lot like I've been bait and switched. "Oh" they said, "you make 10 bucks an hour to start! Oh, and BENEFITS! (...that aren't really included and cost about a weeks pay a month and aren't really accepted anywhere) Oh, and once you're done with training you'll make (on average) about 12 bucks an hour! (except you won't really if you have anything resembling a work ethic and/or morals.)
It's at a call center, which you can guess is horrid to begin with. And guess what! The high school dropout next to me makes 15 bucks an hour because he doesn't give a shit if he helps the people or not. What do I get for exemplary customer service? A balloon. What the fuck am I, five? It's not even a cool balloon either, some dumbass silver star. NOT EVEN A GOLD STAR.
Still, a lot of people would murder me and desecrate my corpse while praising Jesus, Buddha and Spongebob for a shot at my job. The problem I have with it is academic. I am worth more money than I'm making. A LOT more money. And I've proved it... many times over.
But I"m TOO smart to get experience. I'm too inexperienced to get experience. Oh, and to top it all off, I'm too old to be out past ten o clock at night. That's right, I turn 23 in two days and I have an earlier curfew than when I was 13. What the mother fuck.
"Move out!" is your first suggestion. "To where!?" is my first response. I can't afford an apartment on my own, at least not one where all my shit won't be gone the day after I move in. "Room mates!" Okay... ones that do drugs or ones that are deadbeats? Cuz honestly, those are the only options I've found.
I've done my homework. A 10 pm curfew, bullshit as it is, is a lot better than most of my alternatives.
Still. Things are starting to look up. I'm working on a project that might land me a decent gig. I'm looking into some job leads that are popping up in my actual field of choice (WITH TRAINING OMFG).
Oh, and there's some pretty awesome people I still get to see relatively often. They make this bullshit worth it. Well. They make it bearable.
So until next time dear reader. I've missed you. I already feel a little bit better.
Oh, and before I forget... who wants to hear a story?
