Since all my blog posts have been song or record titles of late, and mostly Taylor Swift’s, at that, let’s continue the theme shall we?
“All I know this morning when I woke
Is I know something now, know something now I didn’t before
And all I’ve seen since 18 hours ago
Is green eyes and freckles and your smile
In the back of my mind making me feel like
I just wanna know you better know you better know you better now.”— Taylor Swift, “Everything Has Changed”
Everything is different now. It really is. I’m not saying that in a good or a bad way, because absolutely everything in my life is causing me stress and frustration and self-doubt and anxiety up the friggin’ wazoo.
Everything changed just a little over a week ago, although it feels like an eternity spent in this perma-purgatory and I don’t know how to get out.
Not like I’ve had any free time what with the new jobby responsibility-type things. But I’ve been making sure to sneak out and have fun with a male friend whose company I enjoy.
And I’ve been apartment-hunting (online anyway) — I don’t have the energy to do this shit, not right now with the weight of the world that’s placed upon my shoulders and that’s also showing up on the damn scale.
I swear I work in the world’s worst field. I don’t have scientific proof that it produces the most alcoholics and pill-heads, but with all the pressure on us, I imagine “random drug testing” scares my peers more than “Obamacare.”
I’ve also been avoiding the world. Too much going on that I don’t want to share. And again, not in a good or a bad way. It’s just about self-preservation at this point.
I guess I just never used to care about having people in my life who “got me ahead.” Genuine friendships interested me more than anything, not strategic ones. But when you have two seconds to rub together (during your commute of course since you work all day and come home late and fall asleep on the couch in your clothes twice a week because it’s so late and you’re so goddamned exhausted), you start to realize that some of the people in your life are holding you back. And that time could be better spent gathering your mental strength instead of expending it.
And I’ve got a list as long as Santa’s in mind, and all for very different reasons.
It’s just like high school, too. You can’t break away the one you actually do like from the pack. You have to put up with the whole fam damily or none at all. Been there, done that, cut the neck out of the T-Shirt. If it’s all or nothing, I choose nothing.
And don’t get me started on some of those who operate alone. Maybe there’s something genuine there. But at the point I’m rolling my eyes so hard I see my brain, it’s time to look elsewhere and probably internally.
After all, I need rocks, not stepping stones.
I’ve decided men are the root of all pleasure and evil in life. Women are mostly bitches so I’m always pleasantly surprised when I befriend a few who are downright glorious. (You know who you are.) But men are always in the workplace, always in our minds and hearts, and the ones that are good for you never really want you and the ones that aren’t probably don’t really want you either but they don’t know how to find the door either.
Basically I’m sick of feeling like I can give my whole heart and still never be enough — didn’t produce enough work, didn’t make the decisions they wanted me to make, didn’t get born into this world thin or pretty or smart enough, or didn’t get born into this world homely or whorish enough (oh you didn’t think I’ve gotten off THAT kick, have you?).
And don’t mention feeling like I’m giving away pieces of myself and not getting a good return on my investment. I’m exhausted, people. Not to be an asshole, but I don’t care about anyone’s problems right now (save for basically three people) and I wasn’t put on this earth to entertain or distract or rescue, and I resent anyone who thinks now is the time to do that to me.
Or that anytime is the right time, really. Being stressed to the motherfucking hilt shows you right-quick what your priorities should be.
I’m also sick of feeling like I’m doing something wrong — that I’m starring in my own version of “Groundhog Day” and I just wish a hunter would come along and shoot my furry groundhog ass already because I am trapped in this perma-purgatory and I don’t know how to get out and nobody will fucking TELL ME and I don’t know if it’s because I’m just not bright enough or if I’m just not surrounded by the right people to either help me out of it or to help me reason my own way out of it.
Or distract me from it. Hence the green eyes, freckles and the smile the song talks about. Maybe the only real thing I have is what makes me forget about everything else for a few hours at a time.
“All I know is we said ‘Hello’
So dust off your highest hopes
All I know is pouring rain and everything has changed
All I know is the newfound grace
All my days I know your face
All I know since yesterday is everything has changed.”
I feel the mother of all yam fits coming on. This one is going to involve cans, and quite possibly throwing them. …