one of those

Having one those moments when I think, "What am I doing with my life?"


Got a writing job. I sort of hate it. It is boring and dry and nothing I love about writing. But I suppose that is what happens when you just rewrite press releases.

Am thinking... maybe I shouldn't continue with this job. It is sucking my soul out a little, at least the part that has any free time to write. But. It is extra money. It looks good on a resume, probably.

And just because I like to write and am presumably ok at it does not mean that I have to do it for a living. I like to cook, and I don't do that for a living. Well, I guess I sort of do... :P

I need to find something that I like moderately and am good at and save my passions for my free time.

Or find a way to write the things I want to write for a living.

Or just get over it.

The thing I hate most about this writing job is that it is not flexible. I thought it would be since it is online and I can work from home. But they want you to basically act like you are in an office. You have to tell them when you won't be writing for a day. I don't want to do that. I feel like since it is online, I should be able to write when I want to write. I understand that they want the articles to be written in a timely manner. But I do not want to feel like my home is my office/prison. I want to be able to just take a fucking afternoon off to make bread if I goddamn feel like it. Is that so much to ask? NO, IT'S NOT!

But I guess I just have to get used to adulthood, where reality crushes all of your dreams and you wind up pushing paper and then babies out of your vagina to try to find happiness.

I was going to do so much when I was a kid. And now I'm doing none of it. And I don't even know what I want to do anymore.

Reality wins and the dreamer dies.

rememories

You know how TV shows and movies and people use the gag of getting your husband socks for Christmas? Well, socks were one of my favorite Christmas presents ever. They were black socks, long ones, from a woman I taught swim lessons with. She thought that my legs and feet must be too cold because I always wore short socks. And so, being motherly, she bought be a couple of pairs of longer socks. I wear them all the time and I think of her.

Isn't it weird how memory works? How it can elude some of us but bless others. Fool us. Confuse us. Make us argue over whose is right. I don't have a very good memory. I don't remember much of my childhood. And the things I do remember I am not sure are real. Like I remember my cat Frisky dying in my lap before I had to go to school. I think he peed and I had to change. Grandpa Bates had buried him by the time I got back.

But I don't know if that's real.

I remember cheating on a spelling test in first grade. I couldn't remember if "white" had an "h" in it. I was pretty sure it did, but just to check I got out an eraser from my box and checked my white crayon. Pretty clever. And I'm pretty sure that one is real.

I remember when my period leaked through my tampon in junior high so I spent the rest of the day with my sweatshirt tied around my waist. That one is real. I was in Mr. Browning's class when I discovered it. Well, I left to go to the bathroom.

I remember trying to keep the bees away from the table where I was selling apples by spilling a little bit of Sprite on the floor.

I remember my mom's boobs being the most comfortable place to lay my head.

I remember swim meets that lasted all day. I think I used to be good when I was little. Then I grew boobs.

I remember falling either off the diving block or just off the side of the pool and landing on the edge with my hoochie cooch. And my mom and sisters rushing me into the locker room to look at it to make sure it was okay.

I remember hunting for earth worms after it rained.

I remember the power going out and being mad that Becky and Mandy got to use the lantern to play a game because I wanted it to play make believe.

day off

I work six nights a week and my only day off is one of the days my husband works all day. How shitty is that?

But I love my day off. I get to catch up on a few things around the house. I get to watch a few TV shows on the interwebs. And I get to cook dinner. I love love love that part. I love making food. That is, I love actually making food, not just putting together sandwiches and salads that someone else has thought up. Tonight I made brocco mac and cheese and mashed potatoes. And it was delicious! And I served it by candle light :)

Last night, I closed bakery/register. I've only worked one time over there, and certainly never closed. But I guess it went alright. It's easy as shit.

I cleaned my fish tank today and am amazed at how clean the water is. I can't look away.

I bought vanilla wafers when I went shopping. Bad idea. I looooove them. Too much. What a simple thing to like so much... 

I think I like TV too much. It's funny, because I don't watch shows in real time. Only on the internet or via Netflix. But if I wanted to, I think I could spend a whole day just watching TV. This annoys me. I don't want to like it. But, I guess that TV has to be good, at least to someone, or else it would never get on the air or it would get cancelled after the first season or even after the first few episodes. So... good job I guess, TV people.