petite post
I've mostly only posted pictures, for the last few months, and I hate it when people do that. Lauren and I were talking, yesterday, about the necessity of writing something, anything, every once in awhile, just to leave a mark. no matter how simple. I used to expound on every little detail of every little moment... but that comes in the package of a life filled with angst. Who is Brittany without angst? Well, I'm sure it's not entirely possible, but I've learned how to make my experiences much less selfish. From one perspective, it may seem shallow, but from another, it's healthy and aware. It's necessary. I guess I decided to self-administer what everybody else is taking. And I know, someday I'll be back to my normal... but when I have fewer responsibilities. Maybe in a decade or decade-and-a-half. So let me write about what things are going on, for me.
I've got this job as a receptionist at a tax office, in Virginia Beach. My boss calls me a secretary, but I find the term a little too sexy. I'm learning a lot about the law, history, taxes, obviously, wills, loans, the economy, and other such things. My boss (Kerry) is an extremely knowledgeable guy who runs a few businesses (he's a tax preparer, reverend, notary, astrologist, and a doctor of something or other). He's also quite a windbag and leans to the right in the Libertarian realm, and I certainly don't agree with everything he says. He has a book by Ann Coulter on the shelf. Haven't brought it up. And he tends to be critical and patronize me, from time to time. But I just smile and nod and say, "okay," and, every day, he is more warm and friendly and seems to appreciate me, more. Sometimes, he gets extremely angry about clients missing their appointments and not calling, and he throws papers and stomps his feet and whines like a big toddler. I spent yesterday filling out basic information on corporate tax returns in this big conference room on a marble table, by myself. And I do say... I like it.
The original plan was for me to move in with a friend of my mom's, but said friend is evidently very bi-polar, and she also wasn't able to get all her furniture out of the room I was going to rent, in time, so now I'm staying at my mom's house. She has this crazy roommate, Christine... oh, Christine, I could go on and on and on... everybody in the apartment wanted her to leave, so my not-being-able-to move in with Judith (mom's friend) was a blessing in disguise. A family member moving in is one of the only legal reasons to spontaneously give a tenant 30 days notice. I'll have to write about Christine's crazy antics, next time.
My goal, this half of the year, is to learn how to drive, pay my debt to the college, and enroll for next fall. My life will be flipped in the other direction, once again, but I'll be finishing school, which I have to do. I wasn't able to, before, but I think I'm ready, now. I mean, I definitely had it in me, from the beginning. It was just having a child that so complicated everything. And I felt so overwhelmed, at a certain point, and my mind's young pleasure centers just couldn't be soothed, and I couldn't be happy and still have enough time to do homework. I couldn't go to bed on time. I couldn't handle all the scheduling, the jobs, the assignments, the money... but I feel that I'm different, and I'm going to just jump in, again. I'll, at least, get my bachelor's, right now, and I hear that there actually are some good job opportunities for people with only that.
On another topic, I just got over laryngitis (first-timer). At first, it was kind of neat being all disabled and having to whisper. But by the second day, I was over it. Mike and I went out to Williamsburg to look at a time-share, so we could collect a prize of up to 3 free vacations, and the merciless sales associate engaged me in constant conversation, despite the fact that I could only whisper... which, by the way, is supposed to be worse for your vocal chords than talking. By the end of the night, I was actually jealous of other human beings for being able to speak. It's just another one of those things that you take for granted until you're overcome with some kind of yucky disease or gash, or whatever. I'm glad to have it back, but I still can't rock out on the Rock Band microphone. It'll probably take another week or so before it's all conditioned and stuff in there.
okay, I have stuff to do.
I've got this job as a receptionist at a tax office, in Virginia Beach. My boss calls me a secretary, but I find the term a little too sexy. I'm learning a lot about the law, history, taxes, obviously, wills, loans, the economy, and other such things. My boss (Kerry) is an extremely knowledgeable guy who runs a few businesses (he's a tax preparer, reverend, notary, astrologist, and a doctor of something or other). He's also quite a windbag and leans to the right in the Libertarian realm, and I certainly don't agree with everything he says. He has a book by Ann Coulter on the shelf. Haven't brought it up. And he tends to be critical and patronize me, from time to time. But I just smile and nod and say, "okay," and, every day, he is more warm and friendly and seems to appreciate me, more. Sometimes, he gets extremely angry about clients missing their appointments and not calling, and he throws papers and stomps his feet and whines like a big toddler. I spent yesterday filling out basic information on corporate tax returns in this big conference room on a marble table, by myself. And I do say... I like it.
The original plan was for me to move in with a friend of my mom's, but said friend is evidently very bi-polar, and she also wasn't able to get all her furniture out of the room I was going to rent, in time, so now I'm staying at my mom's house. She has this crazy roommate, Christine... oh, Christine, I could go on and on and on... everybody in the apartment wanted her to leave, so my not-being-able-to move in with Judith (mom's friend) was a blessing in disguise. A family member moving in is one of the only legal reasons to spontaneously give a tenant 30 days notice. I'll have to write about Christine's crazy antics, next time.
My goal, this half of the year, is to learn how to drive, pay my debt to the college, and enroll for next fall. My life will be flipped in the other direction, once again, but I'll be finishing school, which I have to do. I wasn't able to, before, but I think I'm ready, now. I mean, I definitely had it in me, from the beginning. It was just having a child that so complicated everything. And I felt so overwhelmed, at a certain point, and my mind's young pleasure centers just couldn't be soothed, and I couldn't be happy and still have enough time to do homework. I couldn't go to bed on time. I couldn't handle all the scheduling, the jobs, the assignments, the money... but I feel that I'm different, and I'm going to just jump in, again. I'll, at least, get my bachelor's, right now, and I hear that there actually are some good job opportunities for people with only that.
On another topic, I just got over laryngitis (first-timer). At first, it was kind of neat being all disabled and having to whisper. But by the second day, I was over it. Mike and I went out to Williamsburg to look at a time-share, so we could collect a prize of up to 3 free vacations, and the merciless sales associate engaged me in constant conversation, despite the fact that I could only whisper... which, by the way, is supposed to be worse for your vocal chords than talking. By the end of the night, I was actually jealous of other human beings for being able to speak. It's just another one of those things that you take for granted until you're overcome with some kind of yucky disease or gash, or whatever. I'm glad to have it back, but I still can't rock out on the Rock Band microphone. It'll probably take another week or so before it's all conditioned and stuff in there.
okay, I have stuff to do.