Wednesday, December 30, 2015


I made the mistake this weekend of having enough wine at a gathering. Not too much, but enough. That shit sent me into a tailspin the following two days.

I do know that with the medications I'm on, drinking is not advised. I kinda think it's not so much the alcohol with the medication, though. Looking back, there are a significant number of times that I've had drinks that I didn't get schmammered on that followed up with a day or two of anxiety.

I just never made the link before, or I refused to see it. Boy, it's just not worth it.

Friday, December 11, 2015

The State of Making a Living in America

When I was younger, I felt the epitome of having arrived was to have a "good" job. Of course, in my world a job was going to be a necessity, but I dreamed of the day when I had my evenings and weekends free at a full-time job that paid a livable wage and had benefits. Fuckin' A, my dreams came to fruition. It's funny, but it never occurred to me that I would be unhappy if I got this list of things I wanted.

It's just soul-sucking at a different level, now, see. I have a boss who is a strange mixture of politically motivated/wants everyone to like him. So, he'll kiss the ass of someone who doesn't like him and he can't understand why, but he takes for granted the people who he feels have to be there for him. The job is comprised of approximately 4/5ths male employees, most of whom are an appalling mixture of extremely sexist/need their didies changed. One of these assholes suggested I should be trained on using their checklist for gathering their paperwork to submit to the DA. I think I fucking know how to use a checklist, moron. I can only check off the shit you give me, not the shit you're thinking about giving me. That's why the goddamned checklist is for you.

The boss kow-tows to another bag of shit who has a huge control complex and puts all of us in positions where we can clearly see how much control we do not have, but it doesn't bother the boss because shitbag's lips are firmly suctioned onto boss' ass.

The other two women who work there dislike each other and I get put in the middle. I see so much condescension from one to the other that it boggles my mind, and I know how they treat each other when the other isn't around is how they talk about me when I'm not around.

I'm not really helping anyone, and being helpful is a big motivating factor for me. I do what I can with the log chain around my neck, but the only people I generally can assist are people who don't deserve my assistance. I have to try to find contentment with being nice to whoever I can find it in my heart to, and most of the time, I'm so pissed and angry about the horrible ego-agenda-babies that I'm surrounded with, that I lose any joy and good will.

Is this what I have to do until I'm 70 years old so that I have healthcare and a roof over my head? I hear this theme from most working people. Most of the other people I see each day are welfare rats who spend their days trying to get their pals' foodstamp cards signed out to them from the jail so they can defraud the government.

I have sold my soul for a "good" job.