<< You can't see the sunny dust for all the air. >>
2004-07-11 @ 12:37 a.m.

Each and every minute seems to get a little worse. Sure, there are little tiny bits of goodness - even greatness - floating around the bad feelings, like those little dust particles you can see in the air if the light hits them just right.

Things at work seem to have gone to pretty bad to awful to worse.

My trip to Orlando was NOT AT ALL what I had envisioned, and in fact, was quite stressful.

Now that I'm home I feel isolated and desperate for something fantastic to happen, which won't actually happen.

Plus, I'm sick. The kind of sick that off-and-on renders you voiceless, constricts and slashes and shreds your throat, all the while making it impossible not to cough. Or to keep your milkshake and pizza crust down. Ew.

So really I'm having a shitty night. A really shitty night. And the PMS onslaught was helping NOTHING. Absolutely nothing.

And to make matters EVEN BETTER I get to go BACK to work tomorrow. At noon. Until 8. Oh good. If I have the same supervisor, I might cry. Literally. Like, sob.

I want to quit so badly. SOOOO BADLY. I need to quit. But I also have one of the highest rents in Tallahassee. So I really can't afford to quit a job that does pay well. Given that place is mad-sick with hateful politics in which EVERYONE fucks over EVERYONE. It's a terrible place where the admin doesn't even realize how terribly they treat the staff members who work so hard to fill in the gaps for those staff members that despise the center and thus do nothing.

It would seem that the solution to having a job I typically hate would be to quit. Except I can't quit. Because I need a recommendation from Mr. Fisher to the College of Education. Because I have to get in one of the 30 seats available in the Spring. Because I'm stupid and don't have all the requirements I need to apply in the Fall. And if I did I could leave this lousy ass job and get one that, albeit pays less, but is also less stressful, with more hours, and perhaps an iota more respect. I don't mind actually working for my money. I'm just tired of having to cover eveyone's else's ass so they can earn their money too, and STILL - STILL - getting bitched out for never working.

And it's not like it only comes from my bosses. It's my parents telling me I'm lazy. It's my rent payment looming over my head that makes me wonder how people who make less money than me are able to afford apartmetns and I am chewing my nails in fearful anxiety.

It's me letting Ryan make me feel as if I'm not good enough. When really, it's starting to dawn on me that perhaps I'm too good. Maybe I'm not perfect physically. But I'm damn smart. I'm funny and nice and smart. And, honestly, I'm funniER, nicER, and smartER than he. And in realizing this, I hope you understand this does not in any way, shape, or remote form mean that I'm not still trippy-crazy in love with him.

It just means I know I'm a sexy babe. OH. YEAH.

And I am too.

No, really.

OH! Now that we've transitioned into not-so-scary/gloomy territory, let me for a second share with you a great snatchet of news from my day:

Julie moved out of The Apartment of Sarah, Chad, and Ellie.

Do you know what this means?! Of course not. But I will tell you.

It means I am free to visit and see my friends and not worry about that heinous, hypocritical, and hallucenogenic bitch making rude ass comments and making me and everyone else feel uncomfortable.

It MEANS that there is a slim and slight chance she may soon be eradicated from The Life of Me. At least for the most part. I can't imagine she can possible do as much damage which not in close physical proximity, but I'm sure with enough determination ( the kind of determination that pushes to go sixteen nights drinking yourself into vomit-splattered stupor in parking lots in order to beat someone's "record" ) she can manage to fuck things up still.

But she'll have to work for it.

And that's what counts.

I love you guys. We'll end on this high note.

~Me

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