Tuesday, December 13, 2005

I woke up in a fairly good mood, masturbated in the pool of sunlight that hits my bed at around eleven and felt pretty excellent. Of course, that would not last too long. I keep on waking up to bad things on the internet. Yesterday, I think the first words I read were "FUCKING DIE." Today, the first thing I read was the work schedule that was posted for this week and again, I have only been scheduled for two days this week. Whereas I soon read an apology after reading those first words yesterday that somewhat soothed them, today, nothing - just this stupid fucking schedule that has me convinced whoever is making it hates me and does not like me.

I am so fucking sick of having to go in to work and then lobby when I get there about getting more days that week. Erica, the supervisor who likes me always finds holes in the schedule where I can be added, but fuck why wasn't I put there in the first place instead of having to every single week snivel for more days? I need another job. I need to maybe leave this city for a while, but of course, that's really hard when you don't work steady and are always just barely paying the bills you have, let alone being able to purchase plane tickets and go places, see friends you really want to see. So I smoked a cigarette, needed to - and that is bad. Normally, it's not from stress that I need one, but even before I had my cup of coffee this morning, I told myself I need a fucking cigarette, and God, I felt so much better afterward. Then, I started essentially looking at porn, that mindless fantasy crap, except I was looking at hotels and resorts in Florida that were hiring for the tourist season and thought about maybe subletting my room for two or three months and getting the fuck out of here for a while, going anywhere, anywhere warm and where I don't get stressed out so easily.

And then eventually I calmed down, only to go downstairs to check the mail and have my landlord, the seventy year old witch of a woman called Ada who can only yell in Spanish, have her hand me my mail. I was really curious why she had it, and was going to ask her, but instead had her sort of yell at me about the front door, saying she didn't know what we did to it that it was broken. And I guess that's why the she had our mail because the mailperson was uable to get to our boxes because our front door does not open at all. I don't know if it is frozen shut or just broken, but surely a fire hazard and definitely obnoxious that if I want to leave our apartment, say if I want to come in really late or go out really late, or even just go out now in the daytime, I'd have to go through Ada's aparment and out her front door - such fucking bullshit, and if this is not fixed within the next couple of hours, I am going to call her daughter who speaks English and lose my shit because really it is about that time with all these various things happening at once, that you know, that title of that Flannery O'Conner book, that it's all rising and it must converge and I am bound to freak out soon and surely whoever hears it, whichever object it is projected at will be totally undeserving of the brunt of the anger, but that's how these things go. And where could I go and work for a couple months?

No comments:

Post a Comment