Soooooo that's that.
So it's official: I'm moving back to Connecticut. I don't know what happened. I don't know how much of this has been the economy and how much of it has been me (currently I'd say that it's at least 75% me, but who am I to say?)…a lot of me feels like, deep down, I don't want to get a job, and that if I truly wanted a job than it would have happened, but I'm not sure it's that simple--I honestly do want to be a productive member of society. I think it's more likely that I just don't want a job at H-E-B or Target or wherever, and that if wasn't so damn snooty I could have been employed months ago. Or maybe it's just that I don't want to do the work involved in order to get work, that I just want a job somehow handed to me simply by sending a place a cover letter. I don't know. For whatever reason, I blew it. I fucked up, and now just like way back in May of 2009, and even May of 2008, I'm heading back home with no clue of how I'm going to move out, and unlike those times, I'm not heading back with a B.A. or two jobs at very reputable theaters on my resumé-I'm just heading back with a $x-sized debt to my parents and a six-month-stint of unemployment.
Blah. I don't know what I want to do or be or what my future might hold or where my talents actually lie or anything like that. And I know this was just something that happens, and you take risks and sometimes they just don't pay off and all of that, and that I probably learned a lot about myself and about life in general and blah blah blah, even though all I feel like I've learned is that I don't mind Texas summers as much as I do Texas autumns for whatever reason, and that Austin is a pretty rad town, even for those who can't work, and that I can move 2000 miles away from almost everything I know, but I'm still am just an awkward, neurotic, ungrateful, unpractical, spoiled, lazy, clueless, self-loathing, fucked-up CHILD who is full of wasted potential and has a lot of growing up to do.
Also, I'm disallowing comments, because quite frankly, and I have no idea why, but whenever people give me sympathy or whatever it makes me feel worse when I'm like this, and, fucked up as that is, I recognize that as the truth, so I appreciate any concern or sympathy, I really do, but that's just the way it is. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry.
Blah. I don't know what I want to do or be or what my future might hold or where my talents actually lie or anything like that. And I know this was just something that happens, and you take risks and sometimes they just don't pay off and all of that, and that I probably learned a lot about myself and about life in general and blah blah blah, even though all I feel like I've learned is that I don't mind Texas summers as much as I do Texas autumns for whatever reason, and that Austin is a pretty rad town, even for those who can't work, and that I can move 2000 miles away from almost everything I know, but I'm still am just an awkward, neurotic, ungrateful, unpractical, spoiled, lazy, clueless, self-loathing, fucked-up CHILD who is full of wasted potential and has a lot of growing up to do.
Also, I'm disallowing comments, because quite frankly, and I have no idea why, but whenever people give me sympathy or whatever it makes me feel worse when I'm like this, and, fucked up as that is, I recognize that as the truth, so I appreciate any concern or sympathy, I really do, but that's just the way it is. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry.