heart-shaped.org

I’m going to do something here. I don’t know what, but I will.

It’s 6 AM. Technically, it’s Monday. But I haven’t slept. It’s still Sunday. And I am sad.  I am emo and ridiculous and sad and crying, and I hate it so bad. Shoot me now.

I’m annoyed with myself for being vulnerable, still, after all this time. I hate the fact that the wrong words from the right person can knock into me like boulders, and send me scrambling to stay on my feet.

I am a Motherless Child. What I have in place of a mother is cold and stiff. The substitute that really isn’t. But I yearn so much that I continually reach out and hope that I will catch a good day, a good mood. I have no mother. I have no mother figure. I have no one to take care of me. And no matter how childish or selfish it may sound, sometimes that is all I need.

I have friends who say, just call me when, and I appreciate that so much, but I don’t need a sounding board or a venting post. I don’t need a devil’s advocate or an objective opinion, bias or judgement, or a twenty minute conversation about whatever my problem is, whatever is on my mind. I need, in the truest sense of the term, to be taken care of.  It sounds so simple. So utterly simple and ordinary, but I exist in a dried up well. A desert.

I am starving. Sometimes I am scared I will waste away from lack of sustenance: of love.

Example. I got sick at work today. It was random. I’m pretty sure that Walmart deli tried to kill me with toxic food. It came and went, with sweats and dizziness, and as I started panicking about whether or not I would ever stop barfing like the caster oil pie eating kid in Stand By Me because going home sick is just not an option if I want to keep my job, I called my grandmother who is usually full of fun ideas like chewing mints to settle a stomach.  She acted like I was bothering her.  She cut me off mid sentence. “Well if you’re that sick go to the emergency room.”  Flat tones, heavy sighs dramatically exaggerated for my benefit. I made the mistake of asking why she was being nasty. Cue angry annoyed words. I didn’t listen. It’s always the same. I hung up on her and began cleaning my display cases. And then I tried not to cry.

One instance in a million. Like gravel in a driveway. Walking barefoot doesn’t hurt when you’re practiced, until you forget and step too hard or too fast.  But it’s otherwise commonplace. Everyday mundane. No big deal. No holes get poked in tires.

Maybe it was because I felt like shit and haven’t felt too great otherwise the last week or so, because I’ve been somewhat stressed out and have had  kind of a lot on my mind, or because the season is finally changing, because I’m hormonal, because because because, but I became Super Emo Girl who cried driving home from work, and got all shitty with the self-pity. Once the wheel started it didn’t stop, and new things to feel sad and shitty about popped in and out.

Sometimes I am so weary with having to take care of myself. I just… want to be taken care of. Honestly truly unconditionally loved,  not even particularly in motherly way, I’d settle for just a familial way. A forever way. An it’s you and me kid way.

I’ve forgotten what it’s like.

…and I’m updating. In the last, what, eight weeks or so? I’ve managed to get my first speeding ticket, almost get fired, and have oral surgery. Which is not fun, by the way, at all. I have NEVER been in so much pain in my life. Every person who told me it isn’t as bad as it sounds was fucking with me. My bottom teeth were so impacted that he had to break it apart, pull out chips of tooth and bone, all while being the biggest douche on the planet because I couldn’t breathe and as I was trying to tell him that he was swearing at me about how I couldn’t talk. My face was swollen for a week, and I couldn’t eat for days. Even the pudding that I stocked up on killed me because opening my mouth the slightest bit was like trying to pry open a 100 year old casket. There are plus sides though. For one thing, I no longer seem to be chewing on my gums when I talk, eat, or sleep, and that’s cool. I also lost about eight pounds. Now I understand why Tami from the Real World San Francisco (old school) got her jaw wired shut to lose weight.

Having open holes in my mouth is creepy though. They still aren’t healed close yet, so I’m occasionally getting food stuck in them. The sutures finally completely dissolved a few days ago, and not soon enough because once the swelling started to go down I could feel them, and one was so long it dangled on the back of my tongue, making me gag.

Lortab did nothing for me. NOTHING. And they wouldn’t give me anything stronger. Eh, good times.

I finally got around to getting my driver’s side mirror fixed. Only 7 months later. I got out of the habit of using my mirrors while driving, so it’s odd to be able to use them again. I also got around to getting my oil changed, and the guy at Valvoline was so awesome that I tipped him $20.00. He drove my car around the parking lot because I was freaking out over a sound it was making (hey, I’m a girl, WTF, I don’t know these things) and gave me some free wipers, which I needed something ridiculous. Driving without being able to see isn’t so hot.

I am one with emo glasses now. My lifelong dream has finally come true. And tomorrow I am going to get my taxes done FOR THE FIRST TIME, EVER. It’s such a surreal experience. I need to go to bed to rest up for it, ha. I should attach pics to this post so that it looks like I have more content. Here, this is me getting my speeding ticket. This is me with my new glasses, this is how swollen my face later that night after surgery, and this is my new wallet. The end.

This is the best news ever. Ever.  And I just can’t stop watching now.

In other news, my mouth and face are swollen. I’m on antibiotics so the pain should be gone soon enough, but then I get the fun experience of having all four of my wisdom teeth out.

Last week I bought a Littermaid. I am far too happy about it.

I’m bored. The kind of bored that occurs at 4 AM when you’ve slept too much during the day and are wide awake, feeling solitary in the world. As soon as daylight hits I’ll feel drained and without energy, I’ll lay in bed until I fall asleep and wake up having wasted my day off because the library will be closed, and so will the laundromat, and the bank, and blah blah blah. The sleep that I get instead will be thin, wasted. Non-recuperative. So I’ll still feel lethargic, and my eyes will water like broken faucets. And it will repeat over again.

I hate when my sleeping patterns get like this. It’s depressing.

I cannot begin to tell you, the figurative you, of course, because who even reads this crap?, how much I love my laptop. Not only do I love embracing the American cliche by sitting my fat ass in my bed with the remote for the TV on one side and my wireless mouse on the other while my laptop rests on my splayed out legs, but I can take this bastard into the bathtub with me. Oh yes, I can. And it is wonderful, considering I spend a third of my time submerged in bathwater.

Although like a true child of the tech generation I feel bad that I’m neglecting my desktop PC. I think I’ve turned it on a whopping three times since my new BFF arrived at my doorstep. I hope inanimate objects don’t have feelings.

I’ve finally got a new job. I went for an interview at the last place I wanted to, and ended up getting hired on the spot. I’m less ambivalent about it now than I was, but I’m still somewhat loathing it. I’ve never called off a job before, and so far I have twice, because I dreaded going. It’s the start of a bad work ethic and I hate hate hate it. Unfortunately for me I started at a crappy time in retail: Christmas season. I’m not as miserable since its basically over, save for the Month of Returns.  But I’m not particularly fond of a few people I work with, and I hate the way my department manager constantly questions my stability. I swear, I could turn it into a drinking game. A shot for every time she asks “How you doing, you okay?” I appreciate the concern for a new employee, I really do. But it’s been three weeks, and this is not my first job. It’s a little nerve-grating. So is the fact that when I come in everything is always a mess, and my tendency is to clear it up right away because I feel cluttered, and when I feel cluttered I don’t feel productive. I don’t feel like I can get any work done if I can’t see the top of my workspace. I’ve had co-workers and department managers say things like, we don’t have time for it, just save it for later. Which sort of annoys me as well. I don’t quite feel like I have the grounding to say, look, this is how I work best, without ruffling feathers or being told that it’s not the right way. There are some nicer girls that I definitely feel more comfortable with then than others, so it’s not all bad. I’m just good at complaining.

I need the paycheck though. So I’m trying my best to become acclimated and concentrate on paydays. Pay is bi-weekly and my first check was only for a day or two, so I’m sure once I’ve gotten a lucrative paycheck I’ll feel better.

Christmas was predictably shitty. I was honestly fine until the last minute. Something stupid, and blah, all emo tears. I wasn’t expecting much from the holidays, but I wasn’t expecting so little and it left me feeling depressed and lonely. This family-less business gets both easier and harder as time goes on. It doesn’t help that I try to do little things to make it feel  less empty but I’m met with bland response from the people I care about. I don’t blame anyone for my holiday blues, but that doesn’t mean I’m not disappointed that I drove out of my way on Christmas Day to drop off a gift I picked up because it made me think of you and I didn’t get so much as a thank you. I’m not materialistic. I couldn’t care less about getting gifts. But it would be an awesome thing to be thought about.

I swear that if I ever do such a thing, the man I marry will have a family the size of the Kennedys. And they’ll be more normal than not. Or else I’m going to get really pissed and blow up a building or something.

Accordng to Bad Behavior, I was a spammer and couldn’t log into my WP install.  Fixed now. Hi.

I got fired yesterday. (For the first time ever.) I’m not at all broken up about it. Actually, I find it kind of hilarious. I’m reveling in the amusement that he fired me a) in a completely unprofessional manner, and b) he did so because I demanded he pay me.

The owner of the business is a huge douchebag. He’s completely inept. He has no idea how to run a business or deal with his staff. I’d been there three weeks, met him once and he only FINALLY got around to putting me on payroll because he wanted to legally fire me.  I don’t retaliate, but a chunk of me wants to call the labor board and board of health to report this guy and all the bullshit that is wrong with his business. It’s insane.

Not one person is happy there. If all your employees quit or want to quit, and almost none of them have been paid, there’s something wrong, yes?  Not if you’re this guy. If you’re this guy, you simply declare that the problem is them. That they want to work, but they don’t really want to work.

I was going to quit soon as I found another job. Now I’ll just have to look at a faster pace than I was before. I’ve already got applications in all over the place. So thanks for firing me, Bob! Saves me from having to quit AND work Black Friday.

I spent Thanksgiving asleep in bed with a horrible sinus headache, the TV on in the background.   I ate potatoes with my grandmother and gave the cat some Turkey Fancy Feast.

We celebrate big over here.

Yesterday, at work, I went shopping and bought a paper shredder at Best Buy. Today I filled out job applications.

I really really really do not like my new job. Really.