In 24 hours they'll be hanging flowers on my life
Just wanted to vent...
Warning: This is kind of long and rant-y so proceed with caution or not at all!
There have been numerous occasions these last few weeks (like right now while I'm lying nearly horizontal in a chair with my computer on my lap and my brain completely unstimulated) when I would like nothing more than to fall off the face of the earth. Just for a bit.
No, I don't want to die; I'm actually quite fond of living and want to do a lot more of it. And it isn't that I wish I had no responsibilities/problems/tummyaches because while those things suck and suck royally, I find that so far the good things have tended to outweigh the bad. Yeah, I have to pay rent each month but I can come and go as I please, keep my room as messy (or as OCD clean as perhaps non-humanly possible) as I like, eat just as much and whatever I want for dinner, etc.
And almost 2 solid months without a job (not counting the time my mother paid me to come to her office and work for her for 1 day) is driving me completely up and off the wall. It makes me slightly sick to think about the thousands I had saved up in my bank account that are now completely gone, since I had to spend them on 2 month's rent and buying the 100 million+ things my new apartment needed. Hey, we don't have a spatula or a toilet brush or AAA batteries, let's run to the store. And before I realized it, my beautiful stash of cash which I was immensely proud of (but too vain to tell anyone about) had dwindled away. The whole while I thought, "Hey, it's okay, I'll have a great job soon that will be vastly more fun and worthwhile than DEB ever was, and I'll be rolling in cash again." Which was apparently only said to placate my delusional spendthrift self, as no job has thus far revealed itself to me.
I think sometimes perhaps I'm being too picky, that I'm not looking hard enough or trying my best in interviews. Then I get angry with myself for thinking this way; I know I NEED and WANT a job--that 60 days filled so far with a whole shit ton of nothing are making me unhappy, cranky, and jealous. At first I thought I just needed something to do to fill my time while I waited, but now everything I try to do I end up quitting or doing half-assedly; reading new books, working on my website, finishing video games...they just don't hold my interest anymore. So everyday I wake up and have to come up with something else to do, knowing full well it's going to end up annoying me and I'll probably quit it and come back to my room and sit around. For some reason I feel that if I were employed and doing things, those things would by default have higher meaning and I'd be satisfied by completing them.
All of January I was completely happy in my decision to stay in Michigan and NOT move to New Orleans. I changed my mind about moving there because I realized that instead of dropping all my Michigan problems and leaving them behind, I needed to fix what I had here--that running off would help for a time, until I had created a whole new set of problems but this time in a strange place with no one to bail me out.
Now I don't know anymore. For the first time in my life I am without a job or school to go to; perhaps that once grad school starts in May I will be more focused, assuming that by that time I won't be apathetic and disinclined to go at all. It's foolish of me to think that anything in my life should just fall into place but I can't help being frustrated when I see things turn out successfully for others. Which is pathetic, base, and horrible, of that I'm well aware.
I email countless cover letters and resumes to companies and hear nothing back; never in my entire college career did I imagine that by spending 50 thousand dollars I'd essentially become unemployable and over-qualified for any job. Do they imagine that by virtue of that diploma, I am completely unwilling to accept the salary they deem appropriate for that job? I know full well how much pay to expect from such jobs; if I didn't want it, I wouldn't apply in the first place. I also wouldn't apply if I didn't KNOW I could do the job; really, filing paperwork and typing up invoices is not something I dreamed of while sitting in medieval poetry class but I sure as hell can do it and probably better than the person you end up hiring.
I'm sad, frustrated, and above all, tired. Knowing I'm down to the last of my savings is making me desperate and willing to accept a job which I wouldn't have even glanced at 2 months ago, and even those places aren't calling me back. So if I seem depressed, crabby, inconsolable, or on edge, this is why. And I'm in no way mad at you; in fact, if you're reading this, I really like you. I know things always work themselves out in time and usually for the best, so that's what I'm going to wait for.
Warning: This is kind of long and rant-y so proceed with caution or not at all!
There have been numerous occasions these last few weeks (like right now while I'm lying nearly horizontal in a chair with my computer on my lap and my brain completely unstimulated) when I would like nothing more than to fall off the face of the earth. Just for a bit.
No, I don't want to die; I'm actually quite fond of living and want to do a lot more of it. And it isn't that I wish I had no responsibilities/problems/tummyaches because while those things suck and suck royally, I find that so far the good things have tended to outweigh the bad. Yeah, I have to pay rent each month but I can come and go as I please, keep my room as messy (or as OCD clean as perhaps non-humanly possible) as I like, eat just as much and whatever I want for dinner, etc.
And almost 2 solid months without a job (not counting the time my mother paid me to come to her office and work for her for 1 day) is driving me completely up and off the wall. It makes me slightly sick to think about the thousands I had saved up in my bank account that are now completely gone, since I had to spend them on 2 month's rent and buying the 100 million+ things my new apartment needed. Hey, we don't have a spatula or a toilet brush or AAA batteries, let's run to the store. And before I realized it, my beautiful stash of cash which I was immensely proud of (but too vain to tell anyone about) had dwindled away. The whole while I thought, "Hey, it's okay, I'll have a great job soon that will be vastly more fun and worthwhile than DEB ever was, and I'll be rolling in cash again." Which was apparently only said to placate my delusional spendthrift self, as no job has thus far revealed itself to me.
I think sometimes perhaps I'm being too picky, that I'm not looking hard enough or trying my best in interviews. Then I get angry with myself for thinking this way; I know I NEED and WANT a job--that 60 days filled so far with a whole shit ton of nothing are making me unhappy, cranky, and jealous. At first I thought I just needed something to do to fill my time while I waited, but now everything I try to do I end up quitting or doing half-assedly; reading new books, working on my website, finishing video games...they just don't hold my interest anymore. So everyday I wake up and have to come up with something else to do, knowing full well it's going to end up annoying me and I'll probably quit it and come back to my room and sit around. For some reason I feel that if I were employed and doing things, those things would by default have higher meaning and I'd be satisfied by completing them.
All of January I was completely happy in my decision to stay in Michigan and NOT move to New Orleans. I changed my mind about moving there because I realized that instead of dropping all my Michigan problems and leaving them behind, I needed to fix what I had here--that running off would help for a time, until I had created a whole new set of problems but this time in a strange place with no one to bail me out.
Now I don't know anymore. For the first time in my life I am without a job or school to go to; perhaps that once grad school starts in May I will be more focused, assuming that by that time I won't be apathetic and disinclined to go at all. It's foolish of me to think that anything in my life should just fall into place but I can't help being frustrated when I see things turn out successfully for others. Which is pathetic, base, and horrible, of that I'm well aware.
I email countless cover letters and resumes to companies and hear nothing back; never in my entire college career did I imagine that by spending 50 thousand dollars I'd essentially become unemployable and over-qualified for any job. Do they imagine that by virtue of that diploma, I am completely unwilling to accept the salary they deem appropriate for that job? I know full well how much pay to expect from such jobs; if I didn't want it, I wouldn't apply in the first place. I also wouldn't apply if I didn't KNOW I could do the job; really, filing paperwork and typing up invoices is not something I dreamed of while sitting in medieval poetry class but I sure as hell can do it and probably better than the person you end up hiring.
I'm sad, frustrated, and above all, tired. Knowing I'm down to the last of my savings is making me desperate and willing to accept a job which I wouldn't have even glanced at 2 months ago, and even those places aren't calling me back. So if I seem depressed, crabby, inconsolable, or on edge, this is why. And I'm in no way mad at you; in fact, if you're reading this, I really like you. I know things always work themselves out in time and usually for the best, so that's what I'm going to wait for.