You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter...
Current Mood: a little bogged down & tired
Current Music: Mine- Taylor Swift & What Might Have Been- Little Texas
"You are the consummate professional." -a customer after finding out from Sheehan that today was my 2nd day.
"I was a flight risk with a fear of falling..."
"Do you remember all the city lights on the water? You saw me start to believe for the first time."
So, tonight I've lapsed into a bit of melancholia, but it's probably from overall sleep deprivation mostly. (I'm so tired, and all this working and more than that, the school... ugh. Seriously, it's draining the fun out of my life, and that's another thing that I'll hopefully address after I mope for a moment about Chad. I know. WTF.)
I am not typically one to look back and dwell on what might have been, because it's pointless. But as it happens, probably because my life has just been putting me through the ringer lately--or it feels like it anyway. Israel kissed me and unsettled my carefully settled emotions, and then I quit my job and started this new one and I'm working and trying to figure out why I'm even doing all that i'm doing, wondering if my goals are even the same anymore. i've grown up in a way that almost makes me uncomfortable; I used to think I had to run to get away, I wanted to have to run to get away because that was my excuse, and now I can see, realistically, that it isn't true. Not only am I made of sterner stuff than that, but my past doesn't want me. It didn't want me then, so why would it want me to now? Essentially, I don't have to worry about anything ever resurfacing for me. Ever. The people I chose to love didn't love me back, and that was the whole problem to begin with.
Mostly, I hate love. I'm completely serious. Not joking or exaggerating AT ALL. I despise love.
Anyway.
I'm tired, that's probably why I'm being so abrasive.
At any rate, I started my job at the bookstore yesterday (working 6 days this week because of the transition between jobs. It's pretty cool.
First Impressions
Anyway, I'm sort of frustrated, because for years--and years and years and years--my end goal has always been to get the hell out of here and never look back. It has become the bane of my existence.
And so, the sober feeling that I've had lately where I stopped single-mindedly seeking out New York over all else--even my own desires and common sense--and stopped long enough to say, "Wait a minute. If you're just going to sit out your entire life anyway, if all you want is a little retreat away from the real world and into your own little microcosm... why do you have to pay upwards of $1,000 a month to have solitude? Can't you be alone anywhere? Why pay so much to be alone, to be removed from life? Does this make sense?"
And, also, bed bugs are everywhere in New York City right now. I love the city, I do, and I have maintained that love even after hearing how rats run rampant and are found in even clean-ish apartments... but bugs? Really? And bed bugs, of all things. I know those damn things are neigh on impossible to get rid of, and even if I make sure my apartment is bug-free, if I so much as go to a--$12 a ticket--movie, I have to worry about picking up bed bugs from them. And this is a huge, huge problem. If I'm paying mega-bucks to live in an apartment the size of my too-small bedroom, I'm not having bugs.
And then there's that. The small spaces in NYC. I live in a postage-stamp sized bedroom now, and it drives me crazy. What i'm craving right now is my own space--an apartment or a house, bookshelves, room to live.
I currently have no room to live, and moving to New York is, in fact, not going to change that.
Additionally, I don't know what career path I intend to follow. I had been saying, "Oh, I'm going to get into publishing," and maybe I will, but I'm not going to make mega-bucks doing that, and... I don't know. I've just been thinking and rethinking about this. I'm not totally positive now that New York is the best plan for me. It's what I've wanted forever, and a part of me does want to go there just because I've wanted it for so long and I feel like I have to find out if it's everything I hoped...
But the other part says, "It is the single most expensive city in this country to live in. Why do you have to do that to be happy? And furthermore, what makes you think that moving to New York WILL make you happy?"
And I just don't have any answers for that anymore. I have some, I guess, but i'm not as confident in them as I used to be.
Today I started to think about the possibility of moving somewhere like Boston--possibly even Salem, which is a half hour outside of Boston--and opening up a second-hand bookstore. Sort of like HPB. But my own business. HPB is hopping--today I made nearly $3,000 by the end of my 8 hour shift. And I'm going to learn the ropes working there. And I'm not betraying the company or anything--they don't have any HPB locations in MA. They end at Pittsburgh. None in NYC either, but I couldn't afford to have a store like that in NYC.
I don't know. I'm just figuring in a city of 60+ colleges, there are bound to be some bookworms. And I've always toyed with the idea of being my own boss. Of opening a business.
Also, my coursework is strangling the life out of me. Mostly just because I don't have time for it, and the time I do have, I'm finding it harder and harder to force myself to spend it on school work. Between work and school, my me-time is diminished into near-non-existence.
And... now I don't feel like expanding on any of this anymore.
Good night, Gracie.
Current Music: Mine- Taylor Swift & What Might Have Been- Little Texas
"You are the consummate professional." -a customer after finding out from Sheehan that today was my 2nd day.
"I was a flight risk with a fear of falling..."
"Do you remember all the city lights on the water? You saw me start to believe for the first time."
So, tonight I've lapsed into a bit of melancholia, but it's probably from overall sleep deprivation mostly. (I'm so tired, and all this working and more than that, the school... ugh. Seriously, it's draining the fun out of my life, and that's another thing that I'll hopefully address after I mope for a moment about Chad. I know. WTF.)
I am not typically one to look back and dwell on what might have been, because it's pointless. But as it happens, probably because my life has just been putting me through the ringer lately--or it feels like it anyway. Israel kissed me and unsettled my carefully settled emotions, and then I quit my job and started this new one and I'm working and trying to figure out why I'm even doing all that i'm doing, wondering if my goals are even the same anymore. i've grown up in a way that almost makes me uncomfortable; I used to think I had to run to get away, I wanted to have to run to get away because that was my excuse, and now I can see, realistically, that it isn't true. Not only am I made of sterner stuff than that, but my past doesn't want me. It didn't want me then, so why would it want me to now? Essentially, I don't have to worry about anything ever resurfacing for me. Ever. The people I chose to love didn't love me back, and that was the whole problem to begin with.
Mostly, I hate love. I'm completely serious. Not joking or exaggerating AT ALL. I despise love.
Anyway.
I'm tired, that's probably why I'm being so abrasive.
At any rate, I started my job at the bookstore yesterday (working 6 days this week because of the transition between jobs. It's pretty cool.
First Impressions
- Kerry: the manager. Seems nice, and I like her.
- Jeff: shift supervisor. Quiet, but seemingly nice, and "wise."
- Kelly: has worked there for 6 months; thinks Jeff is wise; tiny stature reminds me of Kirstie. But nice enough.
- Kim: I really enjoy her. She runs around and stocks books all the time, but she's pleasant and friendly.
- Jeremy: his name made me flinch, but he's blonde and into comic books; reminds me of Ray. Seems nice, but has a sense of humor that is sometimes so dry I don't know if he's really being mean or joking.
- Brian: another shift supervisor, but I've spent too little time with him to form an opinion. Seems nice.
- Sheehan: unfortunately, I was almost immediately attracted to him (it helps that his name is clearly Irish/something and I've been into white foreigners lately). He's super nice, also blonde, cute smile, constantly telling me how great I'm doing; luckily engaged. (ETA: Sheehan is Scottish. SCOTTISH. Could it get any better? I mean, really.)
- Seth: also seems nice, but luckily I am not attracted.
- Chris: just met him today for five seconds, but I'm pretty sure he's gay. (Literally.) Which is good. Also seems nice.
- Lauren: another nice gal, funky hair, but I think we'll get along well.
- Adrianne: I kind of love her. She's this left-handed vegetarian who loves horses and hostesses somewhere in Cleveland on Thursday nights. She was really nice, and we got along well automatically.
- Eric: assistant manager, only met him once, but he seemed nice... (not attracted to him either).
Anyway, I'm sort of frustrated, because for years--and years and years and years--my end goal has always been to get the hell out of here and never look back. It has become the bane of my existence.
And so, the sober feeling that I've had lately where I stopped single-mindedly seeking out New York over all else--even my own desires and common sense--and stopped long enough to say, "Wait a minute. If you're just going to sit out your entire life anyway, if all you want is a little retreat away from the real world and into your own little microcosm... why do you have to pay upwards of $1,000 a month to have solitude? Can't you be alone anywhere? Why pay so much to be alone, to be removed from life? Does this make sense?"
And, also, bed bugs are everywhere in New York City right now. I love the city, I do, and I have maintained that love even after hearing how rats run rampant and are found in even clean-ish apartments... but bugs? Really? And bed bugs, of all things. I know those damn things are neigh on impossible to get rid of, and even if I make sure my apartment is bug-free, if I so much as go to a--$12 a ticket--movie, I have to worry about picking up bed bugs from them. And this is a huge, huge problem. If I'm paying mega-bucks to live in an apartment the size of my too-small bedroom, I'm not having bugs.
And then there's that. The small spaces in NYC. I live in a postage-stamp sized bedroom now, and it drives me crazy. What i'm craving right now is my own space--an apartment or a house, bookshelves, room to live.
I currently have no room to live, and moving to New York is, in fact, not going to change that.
Additionally, I don't know what career path I intend to follow. I had been saying, "Oh, I'm going to get into publishing," and maybe I will, but I'm not going to make mega-bucks doing that, and... I don't know. I've just been thinking and rethinking about this. I'm not totally positive now that New York is the best plan for me. It's what I've wanted forever, and a part of me does want to go there just because I've wanted it for so long and I feel like I have to find out if it's everything I hoped...
But the other part says, "It is the single most expensive city in this country to live in. Why do you have to do that to be happy? And furthermore, what makes you think that moving to New York WILL make you happy?"
And I just don't have any answers for that anymore. I have some, I guess, but i'm not as confident in them as I used to be.
Today I started to think about the possibility of moving somewhere like Boston--possibly even Salem, which is a half hour outside of Boston--and opening up a second-hand bookstore. Sort of like HPB. But my own business. HPB is hopping--today I made nearly $3,000 by the end of my 8 hour shift. And I'm going to learn the ropes working there. And I'm not betraying the company or anything--they don't have any HPB locations in MA. They end at Pittsburgh. None in NYC either, but I couldn't afford to have a store like that in NYC.
I don't know. I'm just figuring in a city of 60+ colleges, there are bound to be some bookworms. And I've always toyed with the idea of being my own boss. Of opening a business.
Also, my coursework is strangling the life out of me. Mostly just because I don't have time for it, and the time I do have, I'm finding it harder and harder to force myself to spend it on school work. Between work and school, my me-time is diminished into near-non-existence.
And... now I don't feel like expanding on any of this anymore.
Good night, Gracie.