I got an alert on my phone that my stats were blowing up, which is remarkable given my MIA status for the past month. Three people love the shit out of this blog, they read 175 things. Either that, or they’re just really bored. It’s questionable.
I have weird feelings as of late. I have all this time since school’s out, but I feel tired all the time and just want to sleep/watch Friends on Netflix. [Which is actually kind of stressful for me, because they re-cut it in a way I find bothersome: scenes end before they’re supposed to, robbing characters of their reactions. But once there was like a twenty second clip I’d never seen before, which was very exciting! Yes, I’ve watched Friends enough times through that I’ve memorized the emotional nuances. Impressive or sad?]
I really love walnuts. Raw ones, like you’d use for baking. In fact, I buy the bags from the baking isle, they’re way cheaper and don’t have any additives.
Work is dreadful. No one wants to buy espresso machines in the summer. It’d totally dead. Which makes it especially strange that yesterday I had one of my best sales days ending at just over twelve grand. Six thousand of that may or may not be fraud, though, they overnighted one of our most expensive machines across the country. Seems fishy.
We have black out dates for the holidays, so we’re not allowed to take vacation apparently. I’m going on a cruise this winter and I have absolutely zero qualms quitting if they try to say I can’t go. I’ll be glad to start school again so I have something to do at work.
I miss my friend who moved away. I wish she was here to have breakfast and lunch with.
I bottomed out my bank account today. Buckley needed vaccines and someone to look at his white growth-clusters. Apparently everything there costs $50. Plus there was something with blood and poop and pus and by the end it cost $275. Between that and my newly raised rent [thanks gouge-lord] I now have six dollars, two of which I spent on coffee [I have an addiction]. Oh and I’m paid bi-weekly. Here’s to Ramen!
I could work more, but I don’t because going to my office 40 hrs/wk sounds like torture. Low-morale and insignificant data entry mushes up our brains and aggravates our otherwise cheery and hopeful dispositions.
I feel super unmotivated. I want to be writing and editing my memoir. Am I depressed? Maybe a little. I don’t feel the anxiety of transition quite as acutely, but I’m bummed. I think about taking out a large loan available to me from school and just quitting my job. I’m glad to have it as an option. I’ve always wanted to go to school and not work.
I don’t make enough money. I made double the money I make right now when I was eighteen. I think about that and it depresses me. I shouldn’t have resigned my lease. Rent sucks. I could buy a house for the amount I pay in rent.
Or at least a loft, I’ve always wanted to live in a loft.
I feel like a loser a bit. At least I was approved for a credit card that looks like a cassette so I can delve a little deeper into a debt spiral. That’s what all the kids are doing these days.
Blech! Blech! Blech! Things about stuff and crap and shit.
Gotta go do a thing, bye.