SOUND THE HORNS AND RING THE MOTHA-FUCKING BELLS, I FINALLY HAVE A JOB!!! And it's about fucking time too. It was getting to the point where I was going to climb a clock tower and shoot everybody, and I mean everybody. I realize now that for the past month, I was the biggest shit-head. I was depressed, anxious, stressed, and quiet all the time(VERY OUT OF THE NORM!!!) I've been hurt and sad a couple times since I've moved out here, but nothing this severe before. Or ever for that matter. Yeah, I can count on my hands and feet how many times I was soo depressed that not even a gallon of ice cream could mend, but this tops it all. Mostly because I have responsibilities, priorities. A home. A roomate who I depend on so much, and in turn, who depends on me too. I felt like I was really letting Adam down. I was constantly in the mind-frame that I wasnt trying hard enough, when in reality, I worked my ass off looking for a job, any job. I didn't care anymore. I was even considering trying to apply at this Fish Market down my street. I hate fish more than anything, but I was willing to make the exception. But thank god, I landed my current job, and I can honestly say, I feel very comfortable.
I work as a secretary/junior sales person for a catering rental company on the North Shore. Basically I answer the phones all day, direct calls, take orders and fiddle around all day on the internet. It's awesome. I play the Garden State soundtrack and other trip-hop CDs at my desk. Believe me, I lucked out BIG time in getting this job. I mean, I'm the youngest person working here. The second youngest is 28, so..what are the odds that these people would hire a 20 year old. Whatever, I'm not answering questions. Just as long as I get my 42 hours a week, $14 bucks an hour, I'm not gonna complain. They might even take me on a company trip to Washington. Not that big of a deal, nothing fancy. But apparently there's some pretty fucking good fringe and thrift shopping there, so I'm down.
There's so much I want to type about. My mind is just full of so much stuff. Nothing of which is really eating me away or making me upset. If anything, I hate being poor. I want to go out, I want to party and I can't. I feel like a charity case. Adam is constantly asking me if I want to "BUM" a smoke. And me being the nicotine-addicted fiend that I am, I accept. Actually, Mandy and Melissa are visiting us right now from Thunder Bay. It is soo good to see friendly faces from Thunder Bay visiting Vancouver, I'm always open for visitors. "WINK WINK NUDGE NUDGE TO THOSE OF YOU I'VE BEEN NAGGING TO COME VISIT ME!!!"
Anyways, I should probably end this little entry considering I AM at work, and I SHOULD be working, but I HAD to post something. Otherwise, people will think I'm in jail for multiple murders or something.
I'm on the rag, my ovaries are killing me. I'm wearing khakis, this is not a good sign.