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I am still doing something wrong.

I just got a rejection e-mail from that admin position I applied for several weeks ago. I didn't even get invited to interview. Considering I already work for the same company, that's a big slap in the face, and clear indication that I will not make it any further in the building. I must have rubbed someone the wrong way - probably the debacle with the CEO's son a few months back. I'd like to think I'm imagining things, but I've always ended up being right. Most people like me, but there must be a big fish who doesn't want me around. The thing I do know about this place is that no one ever gets told what they're doing wrong. They just don't get promoted.

So, that's fine. I will get somewhere else as fast as I can, and properly hang out in my little corner when at SC.

Soul Meets Body

My remaining cat is bored with me. I can't blame him. I leave him alone for hours at a time, and when I finally do come home, all I do is sit around or sleep. In my defense, it's all I can do. I don't get to be here nearly as much as I'd like, and I'm too tired and out of money to not remain motionless. If I had my druthers, there'd be plenty of playtime and I wouldn't have only gotten to half my dishes before work today.

I am working for the future. I am running myself into the ground, so someday I can live happily. I know that there is no way I'll be at peace without a job I love (or at least don't hate), that also pays my bills in full. I know this, because I spend 10 years trying to not. So, I get it. I will never have enough fulfillment in my home or social life to keep a meaningless position. I am okay with that, as long as I get to the part where I have fulfillment from my career. I don't understand why that isn't happening, when I'm doing everything in my power to make it so. I'm also curious how anyone ever does anything, because I find this all unbearable.

I sent out several more e-mails today, asking for advice. I know where I don't belong. Now I need to find where I do belong, and get there before I start to hate where I am. Or before I die trying.

Good Time

Where the hell is my miracle?

I may be just a guest in other people's stories, but I am the protagonist of my own. And I have fought, truly tried, for success and happiness. Everything affects me. Nothing stops me. Yet, I always seem to end up on the losing side. I have not lived anywhere nice. I get poorer every year. I cannot get my health nor fitness under control. I am pathetic in my attempts at relationships. I remain unwell, unhappy, and nearly done for. My 13-year companion has died. My funds are almost gone. Everything I've attempted the past several months has failed and hurt. There is nothing on the horizon to save me, or even look forward to.

I am petrified, wounded, and in very serious danger. So, where is my rescue? I can't keep on this way. I'm missing out on my whole life. This is so, so bad. I can't even see the next foothold.

Fire and Rain

Is anything ever not going to be awful?

My cat died this morning. I took her to the vet for a follow-up visit yesterday. She was fine. She had gained over a pound, and was happy and comfortable. I gleefully brought her home, thrilled that we had more time together. She was cheerful, purring, and fat. Then, about four hours later, she suddenly started breathing heavily and lying on her side. I thought she was just tired from the vet. So, I waited. Another hour went by, and she hadn't improved. I called my veterinarian - they had closed two minutes before and I got their voice mail. I did a ten-minute search, and finally found an open animal care place a couple miles away. I called them, explained the situation, and they agreed to see me before closing. She was dehydrated (despite being not 5 hours earlier). They gave her fluids and an anti-inflammatory something. I brought her home. Nothing changed. I couldn't afford to go to animal emergency, because I had already spent so much on her two visits that day. I was up with her most of the night, just trying to make it to 8am when the office would open. She wasn't in pain, but continued to breathe heavily and lie awake in various positions. She didn't get any better. I called at 8:05am, and brought her in. There was nothing they could do, other than x-rays and surgery, for which she wasn't stable enough. So, she's gone.

And all the trouble I went through to not have multiple vet visits and extreme distress was for nothing. Because her last day included three vet trips, full of strangers, exams, and shots, and it was $450, and she died anyway.

I don't understand the horrible timing. I can't wrap my mind around why it became this complicated and painful. This is the exact nightmare I was going lengths to avoid.

Working For The Weekend

I met the person who DID get the customer service position at work. She's very nice and easygoing. She's also eleven years younger than I am, grew up in the wealthy suburb next to mine, and was working for her mom's art museum until now.

I really didn't want that position, but I'm insulted nonetheless. They chose an inexperienced stranger over me. I have to get out of this place. They are fun people whom I love, but I need to find the fun people with whom I belong.

However is that going to happen?

Ain't No Reason

I deposited SP's check.

I think part of my bewilderment by his behavior must be from wanting it all to be meaningful. If I remove the influence of my own desire, maybe it will simplify. SP is a unique person. He has feelings, but does not wish to express them - even when it's truly important. He chooses to remain distant. He gets frustrated when people don't act or react the way he expects or prefers, because he cannot adjust. The only way he knows how to reach out is to offer money or knowledge. That's why he perks up whenever I have an apartment question. That's also why his emotional expressions seem forced. He probably does feel things, but he is so scared or damaged or whatever that he opts out of the follow-through, every time. If I had to guess, I'd say he does not care about me all that much. He's giving me money, because it's easy for him to spare. He has no personal interest, but he does want me to succeed because he knows I work hard. He allows some people into his life, but he feels I am too young to be one of them. He almost caved the twenty times I've gone after him, but ultimately did what he thought was right, as he's certain our involvement will ruin my life. He has no idea who I am.

So, that's what I would guess if I removed my wish for him to care about me. And that's probably what the reality is.

Life sucks.

Some Days It Might Be Dark

Ugh, something is happening to my brain. Twice in recent months, I've COMPLETELY forgotten where I'm supposed to be on a certain day.

A few months ago, there was a production meeting scheduled. I remembered it in the weeks and days prior, then suddenly blanked on it the night before. I gleefully went to bed with the thought I had nowhere to be tomorrow, and awoke in the early afternoon. I had a voicemail... from the producer. Thank the gods, he was phoning to tell me the meeting was cancelled. Otherwise, I would have been sitting around in my underwear until someone called to ask where I was. Granted, that show wound up a disaster and it wouldn't have been a great loss if I missed out. I wouldn't have known that, though. And it still sucked that I forgot entirely.

Tomorrow, I have a haircut appointment with a girl I contacted through friends. We've been setting up for a couple weeks, and eventually got to a 4:30pm tomorrow confirmation. As of yesterday, I was in full recollection of the date and time. By the time I got done with work today, it was gone from my mind. I just happened to look at Facebook, and saw a post from my new hairstyling pal, and recalled in one large chunk where I'm supposed to be tomorrow afternoon. Again, so lucky.

What is going on with my head? I know I have an ever-changing schedule. I know I'm not getting enough sleep, and I'm insanely stressed. But these things are pretty typical. I've never totally lost track before. Why am I suddenly starting to drop important pieces? These could easily have been nasty turnouts.

I'm not ready to be old and forgetful. I haven't had a chance to be young and spry, yet.


Something my new neighbor-friend and I talked about last week is what he calls "the illusion of an alternate better life." That's the cynicism in your head that says if you had just turned left, instead of right, none of the bad things that followed would have.

This is something that torments me endlessly (as anyone who's set foot in my journal for five seconds will notice). I am aware at all times that this is terribly unhealthy. Yet, I cannot stop obsessing over what went wrong. I constantly feel cheated, overlooked, antagonized, bullied, and resentful. This is because I am surrounded by people who don't lift a finger, and live in a much better place.

I know their happiness and success is not an illusion, because I've seen what they consider to be difficult. If any of them felt this kind of sorrow and discomfort all the time, they wouldn't leave their beds. Those that complain, do so from within walls that will not crash down around them if they stop fighting. Their troubles are real, but mostly temporary and first-world, and I cannot relate to them. They seem to have a solid belief that the only thing to fear in life is its end. I lost that sensation a long time ago. For me, the worst is not death. I don't care if I die. The thing I am most afraid of is continuing this life - the very one I'm in now - for another 35 years and never once feeling peace or joy.

Looking back, there are 11 million different steps I could have taken. There is no sense in filing them out to see the exact ratio of better to worse paths... especially because it won't be a final count until I cease to exist. All I want in this world, truly, is a life worth having lived. And by now, that's a big order.

So, the voice that reminds me of the what could have been is the one I need to stop the most. What lies ahead is far more important, isn't it?

I Guess That's Why They Call It The Blues

I'm so saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaadddd (and whiny). Make it stop.

The Wrong Girl

At some point, I'm going to have to start making posts my friends and family can read. The whole "blogging" thing only works if one has followers. One can only have followers if she allows her entries to be read. So far, every time I've made a post public, it has been a forced decision, and I wind up feeling somewhat censored. I also do not announce it to anyone.

And I'd have good things to say, if I weren't so wrapped up in my misery. All the personal things going... I am overtaken by them. Though I have topical thoughts to share, all my writing gets dedicated to the quest of living another day. It's like this journal is my counselor, whether responsive or not.

I want to express about things outside myself, but I'm so buried in my self-involved sorrow I can hardly breathe. Writing about it seems to be the only way to get some air.

Regardless, I'd like it something would work out soon. Work-wise, dude-wise, financially... anything. The removal of any current emotional distresses would be greatly appreciated, Universe. I've had an extra rough few days. Now would be a great time for something amazing to make up for them. I deserve it.