or really 5 am, I’m wide the fuck awake. I’ve been awake since 3. I thought that getting rid of a huge stress creator in my life might allow me to, oh, sleep better? Apparently not.
Might just be an age thing. Joy!
One of the many things I need to work on now is getting over this insane jealousy from seeing friends who, as they present themselves on line, seem to have these amazeballs lives.
Because I still see myself as a huge failing loser over not being able to find a full time job, I am equating that to not being able to have nice things, not being able to spend money, not being able to go places.
Therefore, anyone who is able to do those things must be better than me and obviously is doing adulting better than I am.
Oh. I guess that’s whats keeping me up.
The other day I deleted all the job apps from my phone, all job related bookmarks, and all but my most up to date resume from the laptop.
I have to make the best of what I’ve been given and continue to just take one day at a time. I need to not let this stress eat away at me the way it has.
I’m tired of having a dream two or three times of week where I’m not able to do something or go somewhere. (It’s not a reoccurring dream, but each dream has the same ‘plot’ – something petty keeps me from doing something or going somewhere. It has been as easy as trying to get from one room to another.)
This not being able to find a full time job has taken a huge toll on my mental and physical health and it’s affected my marriage.
While my self worth is still drowning, maybe I have a chance to throw it a buoy for it to float on for a while.
There are so many things that I have to process now, but I hope that this is a small step in a somewhat right direction.
I am so full of self loathing.
I am fat.
I am a loser.
I am a failure.
I am a fuckup.
I don’t deserve nice things.
I am a horrible wife.
I am a lazy stupid slob.
I am stupid.
My husband found an old PS2 game at a thrift store the other day and picked it up, knowing he could re sell it on eBay for 3 times what he paid for it.
So naturally he dug out the PS2 to make sure the game worked. It worked fine. I was more excited that the PS2 itself still works.
Which means I’ve been replaying a game that I haven’t played in over two years and I’m surprised how much I remember.
I have always loved (most of) the Final Fantasy series of games. From the old days of the pixel games, FF6 is probably my favorite. And from the more recent, FF12 hands down, I can play over and over. FF12 is pretty much considered PS’s swan song. I loved it immediately because it didn’t have a sappy whiny lead character nor did it have a sappy love story. It’s very dark and political.
So yeah, total reverting to a teenager on my days off replaying this game. Time suckage at it’s best.
It’s all I can think about.
What is my fate? What am I supposed to DO?
No, really. What in fuck’s name am I going to DO.
I’ve pretty much accepted that I won’t find a full time job again. And I’ve pretty much come to terms that I’m destined to work menial jobs. And that I’ll be working well past when I should be able to retire.
I really tried to escape from retail. Now here I am, at it again and the irony? I actually really like this job and I hope the company keeps me on a permanent basis. The location means I don’t have to deal with the shits in a mall environment nor do I have to deal with the shits downtown.
And since I’m a reader and it’s a bookstore, well, duh, most of the customers are there because they are readers as well.
But it’s still retail.
I tried so fucking hard. I did everything that I was supposed to do. I thought outside of the box. I searched outside of the box.
I guess it wasn’t enough.
I have just been reminded again that life is way too fucking short.
It used to be that I wanted to climb the retail ladder because I wanted the money, I wanted the responsibility, I wanted, to a certain extent the ‘glory’ that came with being a store manager or even a district manager.
I was so young and stupid then.
Life has a way of happening and often rudely gets in the way of your goals and plans. But in hindsight it might have been for the better.
Working in America comes with a price. We are trained from our first day of work that all that matters is BEING THE BEST. GOING TO THE TOP IS ALL THAT MATTERS. YOU MUST SACRIFICE EVERYTHING. YOU WILL BE LOOKED DOWN ON IF YOU DO NOT GIVE IT YOUR ALL ALL OF THE FUCKING TIME.
I had an epiphany so to speak a few years ago. In a nine month time frame, I had three women my age pass away (breast cancer, diabetes, stroke) and it made me really re examine my priorities in my personal and professional life.
I’ve paid for it to a certain extent professionally. I’ve made lateral moves since then and have been questioned on my choices. But I’ve held my head high and have never regretted my career path.
I stopped regretting when I turned 40. I stopped giving a fuck. I do what I want now. I play by my rules as much as I can.
my entire life wanting to ‘fit in’.
I tell myself that at this stage of my life, why should it matter, why should I give a fuck (when usually I go with the ‘zero fucks to give’ mentality).
But even now, little things still sting. I hate that left out feeling. I try to keep in touch with friends I’ve made from past jobs but then when I get radio silence when I try to reach out and plan something and then I see pictures on the book of face or other social media, a bunch of those same people having a grand old time at some bar or restaurant, I can’t help but feel the urge to hit something. Fuck, what am I, chopped liver?
It makes me hesitant to make new friends or to reach out again to people. It makes me very hesitant to trust anyone. It probably doesn’t help that my two closest female friends live over a thousand miles away. Texting, email and face time can only do so much.
(I swore I would make this current version of my off and on again blog less whiny but I also am determined to write about what is on my mind at any given moment.)
It’s currently wine thirty, so. On to other things.
Goals for this blog? I want to write about whatever is on my mind. Since WordPress has that app, I can fire off a post from my phone. That’s a nifty thing.
I want to keep track of the books I read next year. Since I’m currently working part time at a bookstore, I have NO excuse to not read more. (And more reasons to use the Evil Employee Discount.)
(Currently reading Ken Follett’s new one, A Column of Fire.)
I will probably do a post tomorrow along the lines of my year in 2017. Which, in all honesty, will be similar to everyone else’s. (Shitty. If you live in the US and you didn’t vote for the thing, yeah)
When you have spent far too long working in a certain industry, this time of year isn’t fun.
When some young, brillant kid invents a drug allowing me to sleep from Thanksgiving until about mid January, I will buy ALL of said drug.
I’ll keep most of it for me, but I’ll be nice enough to give some to a few warriors who deserve it.
So who wants to invent? I promise, you’ll be richer than (insert deity of choice here). If anything, you’ll have to fight us off.
I could live in a John Huges movie.