sometimes I internet
The past three weeks have pretty much blew shit pretty hard. I've been chronically on-and-off sick (sore throat, cough, loss of voice, achey, feverish, nightsweats, etc), it has rained almost every day, and on top of that, this weekend, as it is nice out, I feel worse than ever. I'd say "hey, at least I can talk," but I feel so shitty, anything coming out of my mouth would undoubtably hurt feelings and make tears. For instance: my father likes to make vague, unintelligable (on their own) outbursts as a means of starting conversations. One example, as did happen mere moments ago, was, "Hey John, we went and saw the condiminiums today." Now, provided the two of us had had some previous conversation about condiminiums, this may have made some type of sense. However, being that he's never made any mention of condiminiums, nor showed any interest in viewing one, I was at a loss for words. My response (after about 25 seconds of silent contemplation) was, "I have no clue what that means." Being an overly-defensive crybaby, he immediately flies off the handle, as he would say, and starts bitching about how "we never talk." Wow dad, being that your last attempt at humble conversation was, "hey John, want me to show you how to use the grill?" (he, fully well knowing I wouldn't dream of eating any meat, nor cooking any vegetables on a grease-ridden, meat-heating surface) I can only imagine why we have nothing to talk about. If you were wondering, my response to that was, "Dad, I move out in 6 days, I have no intentions of sneaking over one day and cooking a meal on your grill during my 1-hour lunchbreak."
Perhaps I can be an asshole, and apparently, according to even my most intimate friends, I'm a bit intimidating, but SHIT, sometimes, a guy just doesnt' want to small talk. I spend 8-hours+ each weekday scrounging for shit to say to 23 4-6 year-olds. I don't need to come home and talk to another pre-adolescent mind for another few hours. As if having to move home wasn't shitty enough, attempting to achieve some level of comfort is totally out of the question, apparently. Oh well, after this week of work, I look forward to a paycheck, another full day of tattooing and, on Memorial Day, moving the fuck out of my parents' house again. Who would have thought one month could feel so long. Probably POWs, or prisoners, or or or...well, I don't have it so bad, but I'm discontent nonetheless.
I'm going to bed early-like - 9ish
I gotta feel better than this tomorrow morning, otherwise my job performance will hit shit level.
On that note: the boss man and the owner lady, Shirantha's mom and dad, are leaving for Australia (and other various exotic places) for the next two months. I do believe that means I can wear short sleeves to work for the early half of the summer. Phew! Maybe I'll attempt an invitation to Shirantha's for the week. He knows how much I hate it at my parents' house...and he knows how much I love Japanese horror films. He's a good kid.
Perhaps I can be an asshole, and apparently, according to even my most intimate friends, I'm a bit intimidating, but SHIT, sometimes, a guy just doesnt' want to small talk. I spend 8-hours+ each weekday scrounging for shit to say to 23 4-6 year-olds. I don't need to come home and talk to another pre-adolescent mind for another few hours. As if having to move home wasn't shitty enough, attempting to achieve some level of comfort is totally out of the question, apparently. Oh well, after this week of work, I look forward to a paycheck, another full day of tattooing and, on Memorial Day, moving the fuck out of my parents' house again. Who would have thought one month could feel so long. Probably POWs, or prisoners, or or or...well, I don't have it so bad, but I'm discontent nonetheless.
I'm going to bed early-like - 9ish
I gotta feel better than this tomorrow morning, otherwise my job performance will hit shit level.
On that note: the boss man and the owner lady, Shirantha's mom and dad, are leaving for Australia (and other various exotic places) for the next two months. I do believe that means I can wear short sleeves to work for the early half of the summer. Phew! Maybe I'll attempt an invitation to Shirantha's for the week. He knows how much I hate it at my parents' house...and he knows how much I love Japanese horror films. He's a good kid.