Just Venting Before The Pressure Causes Me to Explode
I am unhappy. And it seems to be a constant state. I don't like my day job. Data entry and phone answering is the most tedious, mindless work out there. And my supervisor is always finding fault with something I'm doing. I like working at the bookstore but I hate having it as a second job where I don't get home until almost 11pm only to get up and be out the door slightly after 7. I have no life. All the friends I've made at the bookstore I only see at the bookstore and I would love to hang out with them but when you're out of the house for 16 hours a day there's just no time to hang out. My parents are driving me fucking nuts. Well, my mom mostly. Dad and I are doing ok. But its been that way since high school. I never see my poor cat any more. I am so close to losing it like I hear some of these people who call into the office do which is really sad b/c my life is nowhere near as screwed up as a lot of theirs are. And as for the future . . . I have no idea. I have no idea what I want to do and no seemingly viable experience outside of dreary, mindless, makes-my-degree-and-two-years-in-Japan-worthless secretarial work. And dating hasn't even crossed my mind. And . . . sigh. I've got to get back to work. I can do my bitching and moaning later.