Tis the season to feel completely sorry for yourself and want to get smashed in more ways than one..
I'm going to start walking along the cliffs by the highway and hoping one of those "falling rocks," that you're supposed to watch out for, finds it's way to my whole body.
Our toilets at work broke and majorly overflowed today. There were literally puddles of shit pooled up in both bathrooms. And even though I was fully involved in a pretty major task, I was elected to be the one who got to clean the bathrooms. There was no "one person take this bathroom, another person take this bathroom"... No. No, no. It was *me* getting to clean up all of the shit, even though two other women were just standing around doing...what? Nothing, really. So I was sentenced to swabbing up the shit. And I recieved no thanks for it. I could have easily looked at and accepted it as "OK. I'm low man on the totem pole... that's just how it goes" if I had at least been thanked for it. Do I just work with assholes, or is this commonplace? Because I have to say... it's only been three weeks, but I'm quickly starting to dislike these women. It usually takes at least a couple of months to achieve such a thing as my distaste for someone. >:(
And do you know what else... I think people who come up with inspirational phrases and the awful people who recycle them back to me can fuck off. I'm almost prepared to bet money that these people weren't souring in the depths of their misery when they came up with that awesome phrase "The only way to go is up! *SMILES**HEARTS**SHOOTING STARS AND RAINBOWS*"
"Money Can't buy happiness." Really, asshole? Because... I'm pretty sure that if I had money, I could take care of my health, and I could feed myself, and have a place of my own, where I could have an actual bed, in an actual room, instead of the couch in the livingroom where I get no sleep because Brian stays up til 6 playing video games and the cats go crazy fighting, knocking over the trashcans and running across my face. And I could have a reliable vehicle that actually has a heater in it. And I could go back to school and feel like I was achieving something in life instead of bubbling over with shame and wanting to shrink up, catch the next available wind and set my crumpled little body asail when someone asks me what I'm doing with my life. The worst part of it all is that I'm starting to feel a certain kinship with the trailer trash people that come into the store. There was a scraggly haired woman with rotted teeth who came in today, decked out in a sweat suit and loafers and all. When she came to check out I spaced out and started wondering where she came from. Not like "Where did you start your day out?", so much as "What happened? How did you start down this road? God I hope I'm not hot on your trail." After she left I started picturing myself in that sweat suit, with my hair all wispy and greasy. My feet clad in loafers which I would shuffle as I herded my 6 kids out of the store and into a passenger-side-windowless yellow Prism, undoubtedly continuing on my way back to my dilapidated, avocado green, two bedroom house to meet my jobless boyfriend who was cooking up a fresh batch of meth.
I should stop. Right here. I'm feeling much to grim to continue and am expected to put up a christmas tree in a few minutes...
And before I neglect saying this, like so many things I neglect to say when the time is right...
MERRY CHRISTMAS and HAPPY HOLIDAYS (to those of you who think you can pull that off)
So... Ho Ho and... GOOD CHEER... and whatever. Here is a Christmas tree for you. I'll try to center it, but... I have no skills.
(PS... this entry was not me pitying myself for having to clean up the watered down feces of the Washington Missouri white trash collective. That's not even a shadows weight on my mind. Just an event from the day and LJs are for daily events and *then* feeling downtrodden... right?)
Our toilets at work broke and majorly overflowed today. There were literally puddles of shit pooled up in both bathrooms. And even though I was fully involved in a pretty major task, I was elected to be the one who got to clean the bathrooms. There was no "one person take this bathroom, another person take this bathroom"... No. No, no. It was *me* getting to clean up all of the shit, even though two other women were just standing around doing...what? Nothing, really. So I was sentenced to swabbing up the shit. And I recieved no thanks for it. I could have easily looked at and accepted it as "OK. I'm low man on the totem pole... that's just how it goes" if I had at least been thanked for it. Do I just work with assholes, or is this commonplace? Because I have to say... it's only been three weeks, but I'm quickly starting to dislike these women. It usually takes at least a couple of months to achieve such a thing as my distaste for someone. >:(
And do you know what else... I think people who come up with inspirational phrases and the awful people who recycle them back to me can fuck off. I'm almost prepared to bet money that these people weren't souring in the depths of their misery when they came up with that awesome phrase "The only way to go is up! *SMILES**HEARTS**SHOOTING STARS AND RAINBOWS*"
"Money Can't buy happiness." Really, asshole? Because... I'm pretty sure that if I had money, I could take care of my health, and I could feed myself, and have a place of my own, where I could have an actual bed, in an actual room, instead of the couch in the livingroom where I get no sleep because Brian stays up til 6 playing video games and the cats go crazy fighting, knocking over the trashcans and running across my face. And I could have a reliable vehicle that actually has a heater in it. And I could go back to school and feel like I was achieving something in life instead of bubbling over with shame and wanting to shrink up, catch the next available wind and set my crumpled little body asail when someone asks me what I'm doing with my life. The worst part of it all is that I'm starting to feel a certain kinship with the trailer trash people that come into the store. There was a scraggly haired woman with rotted teeth who came in today, decked out in a sweat suit and loafers and all. When she came to check out I spaced out and started wondering where she came from. Not like "Where did you start your day out?", so much as "What happened? How did you start down this road? God I hope I'm not hot on your trail." After she left I started picturing myself in that sweat suit, with my hair all wispy and greasy. My feet clad in loafers which I would shuffle as I herded my 6 kids out of the store and into a passenger-side-windowless yellow Prism, undoubtedly continuing on my way back to my dilapidated, avocado green, two bedroom house to meet my jobless boyfriend who was cooking up a fresh batch of meth.
I should stop. Right here. I'm feeling much to grim to continue and am expected to put up a christmas tree in a few minutes...
And before I neglect saying this, like so many things I neglect to say when the time is right...
MERRY CHRISTMAS and HAPPY HOLIDAYS (to those of you who think you can pull that off)
So... Ho Ho and... GOOD CHEER... and whatever. Here is a Christmas tree for you. I'll try to center it, but... I have no skills.
(PS... this entry was not me pitying myself for having to clean up the watered down feces of the Washington Missouri white trash collective. That's not even a shadows weight on my mind. Just an event from the day and LJs are for daily events and *then* feeling downtrodden... right?)