(no subject)
The work.work.work. is really starting to get to me. I'm just not made for this kinda shit. I miss my honey. I don't see him nearly enough. By the time I get off of work every night, I'm drunk. What the hell else am I going to do while bartending? We just end up staying there when I get off, cheap drinks, okay company, and...well...I'm already there.
I don't feel like I can keep this up for much longer. It's starting to be like when I was working at the diner, and I sleep all day and work all night, do it again, repeat repeat ad nauseum. I feel like I'm losing sight of the "bigger picture", which is, of course, moving to Portland and actually living my life the way I want to. San Francisco was never really in the cards for me, it's just a stop-over that lasted a little too long. Shouldn't have blown through my original savings so quickly when I first got here...It was all spent on clothing, booze, and drugs...I had to do something at the time to get my mind off of the huge change I had just made in my life.
Not that I regret it. I don't. I'd rather be anywhere than St. Petersburg, almost. I came here, and I met Mikey, which is worth everything. I just have to suck it the fuck up for a few months. It's so close, I can almost fucking taste it.
It's beautiful outside, and here I am, in sleepypants, on the fucking computer in my bed. I just don't feel like getting up right now. This kinda thing always happens to me when I work too much. I just start feeling like such a waste. I start to become devoid of motivation. I'm not satisfied living like this. The means to an end, I suppose. It will be worth it. It will be worth it. Mikey and I keep on telling each other/ourselves that. It doesn't make all that much of a difference when I feel like crying.
I don't feel like I can keep this up for much longer. It's starting to be like when I was working at the diner, and I sleep all day and work all night, do it again, repeat repeat ad nauseum. I feel like I'm losing sight of the "bigger picture", which is, of course, moving to Portland and actually living my life the way I want to. San Francisco was never really in the cards for me, it's just a stop-over that lasted a little too long. Shouldn't have blown through my original savings so quickly when I first got here...It was all spent on clothing, booze, and drugs...I had to do something at the time to get my mind off of the huge change I had just made in my life.
Not that I regret it. I don't. I'd rather be anywhere than St. Petersburg, almost. I came here, and I met Mikey, which is worth everything. I just have to suck it the fuck up for a few months. It's so close, I can almost fucking taste it.
It's beautiful outside, and here I am, in sleepypants, on the fucking computer in my bed. I just don't feel like getting up right now. This kinda thing always happens to me when I work too much. I just start feeling like such a waste. I start to become devoid of motivation. I'm not satisfied living like this. The means to an end, I suppose. It will be worth it. It will be worth it. Mikey and I keep on telling each other/ourselves that. It doesn't make all that much of a difference when I feel like crying.