young ass

"Now, I don't want to hold the fact that you're only 22 against you, but..."

I'm getting REAL sick of Boone's whole Age-ism thing. I may be only 22, but I give work hard, give a shit, and come with glowing references. Doesn't that mean anything?

... well, apparently only to part-time, minimum wage jobs. I start training at Mtn Bagels tomorrow. I mean... it's something, right? Not something that will pay my bills... but something to make me feel a little less like an unemployable loser?

New classifieds Wednesday.

I keep telling myself just to sit back, breath, and work as hard as I can at this to make myself an opportunity.

Also! Don't let stress about this overlap into PERFECTLY FINE personal relationships.

OH, NEUROSES!

(However, I did have the pleasure of an epic-ly long telephone conversation with Mr. Finck, in which I rambled while he nic-fitted, and we both {hopefully} managed to distract ourselves from ourselves {a lil bit} to the overall benefit of our respected well-beings.)

(ALSO! Stress eating like a muthafucka.)

das boot

Today I was an hour late for work because I had a boot put on my car. I tried to park on King St after work last night, but even though it was just after 6:30, because it was a Saturday there were NO spaces. So, I get up this morning, ready to go, walk out to where I parked -- and there they are, sitting on my tire.

$60 down the whole. "Hey, well, maybe this will cheer you up. If you had waited just another hour, you would be paying $120." I told him it might as well be a million, in that case, because I couldn't afford to pay it.

I AM BROKE, y'all. Broke broke broke. And bills keep coming.

When I was younger, I was told that if I was smart enough, and I worked hard, I could get scholarships and go to college and then get a job, and it really didn't matter what my degree was in as long as I got one, because then I was proving that I was a capable, intelligent hard worker, BLAH BLAH FUCKING BLAH, and I'd get paid and everything would be ok.

LIES LIES LIES FUCKING LIES.

So, essentially, this morning any naive hopes of being able to stay in Boone have pretty much been shattered.

Fuck, I do not want to move back to Jacksonville. I do not want to ask my parents for money. I just want to pay my bills and write and live in PEACE.

Money = root of all evil, y'all.

THERE IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH THIS PICTURE.

resolutions

SO.

HP (no, no, not Harry Potter) and I had very long conversation last night, which has led to a mutually-agreed stasis-of-anything-regarding-the-S-and-R-words. However, this just-friends attitude will probably be beneficial in preventing myself from becoming distracted at a point in my life where I need to get all my own shit straightened out.

ONWARD, AHOY!

In other news: after I pay rent tomorrow I will be more broke than I ever have been since leaving my sheltered teenage life. this does bother me, but not as much as I expect it would. I think it's gotten to the point where I have so little money that it doesn't matter how much it is, because it's essentially nothing. so I went out and had a few drinks last night because, at this point, that extra $5 really makes no difference, ha ha ha.

thank god I have a sense of humor. I'd like to think I'm taking everything that's happened recently fairly well.

The Tweet has finished its 7-day schedule, so I'll be losing 2 paid hours a week, about $50 or so every month. groooooossss. hopefully I'll get an NYC job soon.

on deck: new brakes and rotors, when I can afford them (HAH! right now $420 seems more like a MILLLLLION).

six-and-a-half-hours-til-the-weekend

(ALSO!)

(I'm going to kidnap sommer and her kittens and her cupcakes. plz don't tell ben kthnx.)