(no subject)
And now the serious post. Maybe I should post these up in reverse? Too late.
I'm down to pennies. And no, I'm not going to jail. I explained to Mark (and henceforth deleted his comment so as not to draw unnecessary pity) that the "month or two" was my payment extension. $150ish for the ticket (100 for deferred, plus a $25 DSC I'm not factoring into the 150), 135 for no seatbelt (I'm gonna see if I can't break the seatbelt and argue that the ticket was BS). He offered me a loan. Better him than Pasadena, I'm sure, but I'll be OK.
The truck continues to stink. Dat panicked when I told him about it. It sounded like something he or someone else had seen before. But I don't have the money. Solutions:
1) Drive it 'til it breaks. (Most Likely)
2) Leave it in Pasadena or La Porte to get it stolen.
3) Get money, fix it.
If the truck goes, I'm outta here. There will literally be no more reason for me to stay. No offense, folks. But you know how much I hate this place in my life (and this place generically).
I'm tired of having to go to the library to tell my friends how I'm really doing. I'm tired of living an open hypocrisy to keep myself fed and sheltered. I'm SICK and tired of putting up with my mother. I'm tired of looking for a job in a dead market. I'm just plain tired.
::sigh:: Is there even a point in complaining anymore?
It's not for lack of motivation, Chris. Thanks for the concern, but right now, my only motivation is to keep everyone off my case. My avoidance of conflict has tripled lately. Does this sound suspiciously like the enlightenment from Office Space? "You only work hard enough to keep your job." Never too much, never too little. It's not like I do nothing. I've offered her on multiple occasions to be the Mexican cleaning lady if she'll just lay off and let me slack at nights whilst looking for earnest employment. Not surprisingly, she's not taking. I swear. Evidently, work isn't a substitute for a job.
So here's the new work. I told you this, I think. Amity's mom needs a tutor for the math sections of the Texas Higher Educator's Assessment, or THEA, so she can get her cert and go back to teaching. She got fired from the St. Helen's private school and has been doing everything in her power to get her stuff back together. She offered me gas (in lieu of cash, just fine by me) and dinner, which I can't complain about. Her son also needs a math guy, a task that his father would be more than happy to compensate for. So I have a line on some work and some cash.
But no job. And that's not good enough.
Now forgive me as I go outside to my truck, turn up the stereo to 11, and scream until my lungs collapse.
"The Real You"
by The Suicide Machines
The word real's defined
as what really lies inside
You're not the person I once knew,
You're not the you that I'm used to
All this wool is buggin' my eyes and I
I never realized that
behind that plastic shell, you cannot even tell.
I can't come in 'cause you wont let me break
through the mask of who you really are.
You let down your shield it's your best defense,
It won't devastate you, It's really hard
For me to tell you everything I want to say to you
But you say you never knew the real me
and I'm sure that I never knew the real you
Conflicting spheres of interest pose a threat to who we are.
And where we want to be, We just can't see
We throw the walls up around ourselves.
Our visions are dulled and doubtful its our double standards
that'll wrap us up inside ourselves and never let us out....
"Motherfucker!"
"Fuckin' bitch!"
"Hypocrite!"
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"
...All right. I'm not done bitching yet. Forgive me, but if I hadn't stopped to post these song lyrics, I would have never heard this. There's this asshat four feet to my right talking VERY LOUDLY ON A CELLPHONE IN A FUCKING LIBRARY!!
Draw your own conclusions. I'm gonna go slash his tires.
I'm down to pennies. And no, I'm not going to jail. I explained to Mark (and henceforth deleted his comment so as not to draw unnecessary pity) that the "month or two" was my payment extension. $150ish for the ticket (100 for deferred, plus a $25 DSC I'm not factoring into the 150), 135 for no seatbelt (I'm gonna see if I can't break the seatbelt and argue that the ticket was BS). He offered me a loan. Better him than Pasadena, I'm sure, but I'll be OK.
The truck continues to stink. Dat panicked when I told him about it. It sounded like something he or someone else had seen before. But I don't have the money. Solutions:
1) Drive it 'til it breaks. (Most Likely)
2) Leave it in Pasadena or La Porte to get it stolen.
3) Get money, fix it.
If the truck goes, I'm outta here. There will literally be no more reason for me to stay. No offense, folks. But you know how much I hate this place in my life (and this place generically).
I'm tired of having to go to the library to tell my friends how I'm really doing. I'm tired of living an open hypocrisy to keep myself fed and sheltered. I'm SICK and tired of putting up with my mother. I'm tired of looking for a job in a dead market. I'm just plain tired.
::sigh:: Is there even a point in complaining anymore?
It's not for lack of motivation, Chris. Thanks for the concern, but right now, my only motivation is to keep everyone off my case. My avoidance of conflict has tripled lately. Does this sound suspiciously like the enlightenment from Office Space? "You only work hard enough to keep your job." Never too much, never too little. It's not like I do nothing. I've offered her on multiple occasions to be the Mexican cleaning lady if she'll just lay off and let me slack at nights whilst looking for earnest employment. Not surprisingly, she's not taking. I swear. Evidently, work isn't a substitute for a job.
So here's the new work. I told you this, I think. Amity's mom needs a tutor for the math sections of the Texas Higher Educator's Assessment, or THEA, so she can get her cert and go back to teaching. She got fired from the St. Helen's private school and has been doing everything in her power to get her stuff back together. She offered me gas (in lieu of cash, just fine by me) and dinner, which I can't complain about. Her son also needs a math guy, a task that his father would be more than happy to compensate for. So I have a line on some work and some cash.
But no job. And that's not good enough.
Now forgive me as I go outside to my truck, turn up the stereo to 11, and scream until my lungs collapse.
"The Real You"
by The Suicide Machines
The word real's defined
as what really lies inside
You're not the person I once knew,
You're not the you that I'm used to
All this wool is buggin' my eyes and I
I never realized that
behind that plastic shell, you cannot even tell.
I can't come in 'cause you wont let me break
through the mask of who you really are.
You let down your shield it's your best defense,
It won't devastate you, It's really hard
For me to tell you everything I want to say to you
But you say you never knew the real me
and I'm sure that I never knew the real you
Conflicting spheres of interest pose a threat to who we are.
And where we want to be, We just can't see
We throw the walls up around ourselves.
Our visions are dulled and doubtful its our double standards
that'll wrap us up inside ourselves and never let us out....
"Motherfucker!"
"Fuckin' bitch!"
"Hypocrite!"
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"
...All right. I'm not done bitching yet. Forgive me, but if I hadn't stopped to post these song lyrics, I would have never heard this. There's this asshat four feet to my right talking VERY LOUDLY ON A CELLPHONE IN A FUCKING LIBRARY!!
Draw your own conclusions. I'm gonna go slash his tires.