(no subject)
Some days are incredibly lonely. I went to work for eight hours today. I didn't connect with anyone. I was tolerated. I was detached. It was one of my two shifts this week.
I have felt myself becoming more and more detached since they cut my hours back. And since spring is threatening.
I applied for two more jobs last night. The tattoo parlour emailed me back this morning that they've already filled the position.
The station, superheat, the municipality of saugeen shores, the law office, and the accounting firm never responded. So I guess I'm not good enough for those jobs. In fact, there have been no callbacks or interviews yet. So there's just the municipality of Kincardine's admin position that I'm waiting to hopefully hear anything. Even a rejection. Just to know that someone actually read it, my resume.
Ash spent all night finishing three knife sheaths for a commission. I'm so proud of her. And I'm so hurt that, despite having an entire year to develop myself, my work isn't wanted. That hurts.
I feel like this town has made me stupid. I dust shelves and mop floors and stack cans. I get admonished for taking initiative. I make food and fold laundry and scoop up poop. I try to lose myself in yet another selfish project, unsuccessfully. I ruminate. I cry. I put on another sweater to pretend I'm being held. My brain atrophies.
Tonight is not a good night to be alone.
I have felt myself becoming more and more detached since they cut my hours back. And since spring is threatening.
I applied for two more jobs last night. The tattoo parlour emailed me back this morning that they've already filled the position.
The station, superheat, the municipality of saugeen shores, the law office, and the accounting firm never responded. So I guess I'm not good enough for those jobs. In fact, there have been no callbacks or interviews yet. So there's just the municipality of Kincardine's admin position that I'm waiting to hopefully hear anything. Even a rejection. Just to know that someone actually read it, my resume.
Ash spent all night finishing three knife sheaths for a commission. I'm so proud of her. And I'm so hurt that, despite having an entire year to develop myself, my work isn't wanted. That hurts.
I feel like this town has made me stupid. I dust shelves and mop floors and stack cans. I get admonished for taking initiative. I make food and fold laundry and scoop up poop. I try to lose myself in yet another selfish project, unsuccessfully. I ruminate. I cry. I put on another sweater to pretend I'm being held. My brain atrophies.
Tonight is not a good night to be alone.