(ok...so my dude actually TOOK this...i edited though...really...)i went on vacation. self-imposed, but much needed.
my job sucks my soul out of me...well, that and all the cigs i smoke to combat the soul-sucking job that is.
it's all just so stupid. absolutely, positively fucking stupid. work, work, work...there's no room to really live in the monotony of the routine, is there? and screw all them nay sayers who are like...you should just count your blessing that you have a job. no. i count my blessings that i have my creativity and my health--the things that make me, me...that's gone though...the creativity that it, so what have i got...health...? health to get me to work and back...i also have: rush hour, bitter cups of coffee, frozen lunches, cans of soda, a shit-ton of e-mails telling me what to do next and a few more cups-a joe...cold most of the time, mind you...
it's sad, because i do love my job. i work at a museum...a pretty cool one at that. i'm proud of my work too. it's just so unrewarding in the paycheck vs responsibilities department, ya know...? like seriously...responsibilites have strangled the hourly wage until its eye's popped out of the few george washington's that eventually ended up in my hand...minus uncle sam's cut that is. at least i don't have to worry about paying for health insurance...i don't have that. and i do have overtime pay...which is good. i need to put in o.t. to make up for any day i need to stay home...i don't get p.t.o either. god. i'm such a bitch. listen to me...all complainin' and stuff. to think...i could be back waitressing making a measly 20 or so bucks an hour.
gaaaaaarrrrrrrrg.
whew. i feel better now, i think. actually no, i know i do. it's the beginning of my three day weekend and i've had a few glasses of wine--my first drinks in over two weeks, not quite three but definitely more than two. it feels good too. it feels like that deep down happy i love and that's truly deep down me. it doesn't feel like stress or chaos...it feels smily and content. it feels like i want to attempt to solve the problems of the world with a smoke in one hand and a glass of wine in the other and with rambly sentences that have nowhere to go but into space. it feels like jim croce the night before thanksgiving without a care in the world about lay offs, money, weight and family issues. it feels like a happy turkey day despite being a vegetararian. it feels like i can laugh at the things that normally make my eyes well up with the tears that sting my cheeks...sometimes happiness can be found at the bottom of a bottle, i swear. every time? no. it will be the death of the happiness if you let it become you...if you try to use it every night to find the real you...the happy...you won't find it. you'll just keep searching. i like wine every couple-a weeks. i like a lot of wine every couple-a weeks a lot. i like remembering that deep down...under all that bull shit...there is happy. i do like happy. a lot :)
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