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(Untitled)
In the wake of everything I know about myself, other people, and the world at large, I feel kind of shitty complaining about my job. My job that everyone else who has ever worked in foodservice is telling me I should get a rib removed to self-fellate, how dare I, that just doesn’t happen.
So I feel bad, a bit, complaining here. Still going to.
When ( Read more... ) -
(Untitled)
I started working where I work in 2012. When I started, my position called for me to work from 8 AM to 3:30 PM, Monday through Friday, later on hockey nights, dishwashing and tending the restrooms, through the most difficult times of the day; morning prep and lunchtime, wherein we could gross $5,000 in a mere 90 minutes. 37.5 hours, a comfortable ( Read more... ) -
If we haven't, we should have
I think what I have suddenly learned, in light of having someone break up with me, is that I never cared about me as long as I had someone else who also did. That hasn't happened since 2005, so maybe I just forgot what it looked like, forgot what it was like to say to myself "this person matters more than me, a guy who has lived alone for almost 6 ( Read more... ) -
(Untitled)
Vile, to me, how I still have to parse out these feelings. Our relationship was a full two months long. 91 accumulated hours, if my math is correct, spent with one another. I am baffled, because we did so much in that time. Exchanged so many tender words, so many promises. Showered together. Bought one another food and clothes. I just didn't expect ( Read more... ) -
(Untitled)
I did so much yelling and chuckling and attempting to prove that I can feel things other than raw-nerve spite at work today that I sound like wet sand in a blender when I talk.
Work. Work. I guess there’s not much else. Suppose I don’t hate the idea of working 7-10 hours a day, knowing that I do not have to go to another job when I leave, and that ( Read more... ) -
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I need assurance right now that I'm not a bad person.
Anything.
As soon as possible. -
UH
Well, in my travels on this here internet, I have come across nothing that inspires this variety of giddy confusion, a sort of baffled, blinking insanity I cannot level in my own head, but tend to enjoy anyway. Nothing like this.
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Pieces
This entire journal is now friends-only, through and through. Who knows, there might be some more changes, whenever and however.
I consider this "taking steps."
