Do you ever wish that you could be someone (or something) else other than yourself? Right now, I wish that I was a cat.
I’m outside, smoking my fucking lungs out (as I always do when things get so rough), looking at our cats, realizing how serene they look; how they seem to be so content with who they are and their lives.
(Then I saw a flying cockroach and bolted.)
I don’t really understand what’s happening with me anymore. I’ve a few theories, though. And the one that’s standing out the most is this job that I have that I happen to hate so much. And the feeling that I’m trapped in this industry because I don’t know how to do anything else sucks. Plus, there’s no other industry that would pay an undergraduate such as myself as much.
And I need the money. We all need the money.
The stress of it all is really taking its toll on me and I don’t know how else to deal. I need to take a breather.
But taking a breather means letting my job go and being a slacker for god knows how long. And I can’t afford that right now.
The mere thought of going back to work, though, is driving me to the brink of my sanity and I’m barely holding on as it is.
I need to think of an alternative, and I need to think of one fast.
I don’t have parents to fall back on financially as my mother — who is my only living parent — also depends on me for financial support (see my dilemma here?).
Money, money, money.
Why does the world revolve around these pieces of paper that somehow hold so much value?
This blog is basically what’s keeping me from completely losing it. The challenge that I’m doing is what’s keeping me sort of sane.
So I’ll continue writing. I’ll continue knocking my brains out for things to write about because otherwise, I’d be forced to face my fuckfest of a life.