(no subject)
I had a seed of dread in the pit of my stomach on Saturday night. That feeling was good for me. It kept me from drinking too much on my 21st birthday. All in all, a good time and I managed not to consume horrendous amounts of alcohol. I still won't be drinking that much again for a long time, though.
I've had a bad feeling for a while, now. I don't mind working a lot, so the 50+ hour work weeks have been almost welcome, but now I feel like I'm living for work. I wait and wait for that one day off a week and when it comes, all I have the energy to do is go to the river. But I'm thankful for at least that. I'm giving myself these next few days that my mom is here and I'm not working to get a few personally productive things done with her help. We can't maintain a garden in our backyard because the sprinkler system would destroy it, which is really lame because there's a perfect plot back there that was dug out once and John was really excited about helping with my idea of doing bio-intensive gardening. But I am going to do some pot plants, at least a few kitchen herbs so I'm going to get those with my mom. We've also planned to drive up to Flathead Lake, and I'm going to borrow Mike's super nice camera to attempt to take some super nice pictures.
Last thought: Finn&Porter is soul sucking me. SOUL SUCKING. I can't stand this corporate bullshit. The job itself is not hard, and the people I work with are generally fine, even pretty cool in some instances. Yet every day I go in there, I start off at 6am with a ton of energy, thinking about all the things I need and want to get done and ready to do them, and by the end of my shift at 3pm, I've got no fight left in me. I'm tired, the small talk with customers has depleted me of having anything worthwhile to say, my fake smile has faded to a shadow of a grimace and all I want to do is sleep. Sleep, and let the escapism of unconsciousness relieve me for a short time of the guilt and rage that I feel by the end of a work day at F&P.
Also: Josef Fritzl claims that the influence of Nazism is responsible for him being a sick bastard.
I've had a bad feeling for a while, now. I don't mind working a lot, so the 50+ hour work weeks have been almost welcome, but now I feel like I'm living for work. I wait and wait for that one day off a week and when it comes, all I have the energy to do is go to the river. But I'm thankful for at least that. I'm giving myself these next few days that my mom is here and I'm not working to get a few personally productive things done with her help. We can't maintain a garden in our backyard because the sprinkler system would destroy it, which is really lame because there's a perfect plot back there that was dug out once and John was really excited about helping with my idea of doing bio-intensive gardening. But I am going to do some pot plants, at least a few kitchen herbs so I'm going to get those with my mom. We've also planned to drive up to Flathead Lake, and I'm going to borrow Mike's super nice camera to attempt to take some super nice pictures.
Last thought: Finn&Porter is soul sucking me. SOUL SUCKING. I can't stand this corporate bullshit. The job itself is not hard, and the people I work with are generally fine, even pretty cool in some instances. Yet every day I go in there, I start off at 6am with a ton of energy, thinking about all the things I need and want to get done and ready to do them, and by the end of my shift at 3pm, I've got no fight left in me. I'm tired, the small talk with customers has depleted me of having anything worthwhile to say, my fake smile has faded to a shadow of a grimace and all I want to do is sleep. Sleep, and let the escapism of unconsciousness relieve me for a short time of the guilt and rage that I feel by the end of a work day at F&P.
Also: Josef Fritzl claims that the influence of Nazism is responsible for him being a sick bastard.