Tis I! Your average harried minion hailing from the realm of retail. What a day it was. Honestly I do enjoy my job. I’m glad to even have a job! It’s just been one of those days.
I always ask myself what I could have done better. Today I could have taken the extra work with a little more cheer. Pep it up in the store!
So someone didn’t finish what they were supposed to, leaving the rest of us to deal with it. That person’s actions are not in my control, but my reaction and actions are in my control. Next time that happens, rejoice I say! More work?? I’ll ask if I can stay longer to finish it. Hah.
Now, on to projects!
Lately I’ve been enjoying simple things. Flowers for example, so unoriginal! Everyone has painted or drawn a flower at some point in their life, but what can I say, I like flowers. I also like pie. Egg pie.
We held each other and I cried while he muttered his frustrations and adorably convoluted insecurities to me. It was an emotionally confusing night and we were both in some weird negative limbo, weighing each other down. We tried to kiss, but he inhaled my tears and choked a little. “What if I drown in your tears?” I think he was joking and I laughed because we were so absurdly awkward that it was perfect. I kissed him back and he escorted me to the light rail in his gentlemanly way. He waited with me for the train and saw me off. That was the end of our relationship I guess.
We texted each other the next day and decided to “take a break” I really miss him but I know it’s for the best.
Peace to all the broken hearts. We’ll get our time someday.
I sit in the break room and contemplate my present and my future. The present doesn’t look so good. I am anxious when I have to look at my bank account. I have had to move back in with my parents. I must find another job, try to be a supportive and caring girlfriend, and not be a nuisance to my family.
Don’t take that the wrong way. I love their staying power and I love them, but we can’t be living together forever. I am in America now, where independence from the family as a grown person is valued more than where I grew up.
The future holds so many possibilities. Art therapy, maybe a husband, two kids and a dog? Maybe I’ll travel across the globe again, single and start anew once more.
Thing is none of that will happen unless I start moving now. So cheers to this day. Another day full of possibilities and opportunities to learn more.
Everything is hot. The air, the pavement, myself. I feel like I live in an oven.
At least I am alive to feel the heat. I have a mind to use, hands to use. I have a job which doesn’t pay so well, but is actually really fun.
Thank you for this new day and for every new day after. I hope to always keep in mind that life may suck because of circumstance, but it’s my reaction and my actions that I have some power over. All I can do today is be grateful for the life I have and take yet another step to move forward.
If I get burnt, I hope the fire changes me in to something better.
Last night the pain overcame me. I was afraid it was my acute UTI returning to haunt me. I couldn’t afford to miss any more work days so I finally went ahead to an ER. Thank God for Uber in the wee hours of the morning. As it turned out, my uti was still dead, but I was so constipated or full of shit (literally) that it was causing me extreme pain. I never knew constipation could get that bad! I’m home now, with a months supply of laxative in the form of indigestible plastic and a few days worth of antibiotics. It’s time to make a change in my lifestyle.
Goodbye steaming, creamy mugs of coffee. Goodbye my sweet layers of chiffon interrupted only by heavenly butter orange cream and covered in that irresistible vanilla icing. Goodbye dark delicious chocolate in all forms. Goodbye cookies, how I will miss stuffing my face with you. Goodbye my friends. Our time has come to part ways. Maybe I will visit you now and then, but probably only on special occasions. I love you.
I meandered through the aisles, the fact that I was there for soap barely registered in my mind when I was approached by a small elderly lady pushing her own cart (as opposed to one from target) She wore a drab green dress and sported pigtails under her yarn hat.
“Hey. Hey! You.” She quickly drew herself to my side. “Yes?” I thought she was going to ask me where something was. I soon learned I was mistaken when she proceeded to tell me that she had been approached by two furry creatures carrying signs which told her that if she wouldn’t take them home they were going to kill her (the setting of this scene was an abandoned parking lot of course) “There were two of them and one of me! I had to do it!” She leaned in closer as I tried to take on a serious face and nodded earnestly “hmmm” “wow.” She then went on to tell me that they were cats, but… “Ohhhh, you don’t really wanna know this part” (in conspiratorial tones) and a low whisper ” They’re actually gods,GODS! Egyptian gods!” I was beginning to have fun so I asked her how that made her feel. Apparently terrible. “They… (She looked around as if to be sure no one would hear) “They force me to buy them friskies” her face dropped, and she rubbed her arm as she seemed to shiver. She also mentioned something about a big black and white cat who was their big Daddy. “They have claws I have to do what they say! ” Her face almost pleading.
She must have realized I was humoring her because then she told me that she was actually a comedy writer with several books under her belt. I almost believed her and even asked her what her name was. Linda Rogo she said. Oh dear. A fictional character.
At that point I was slowly backing away as she yelled out one liners at me “Wait, one more! I hate drugs so much I won’t even give my cat catnip!”
“Oh youuuu! I have to get home now! Thank you! You have a good night! Bye bye!” And so the night ended. I never got that dish soap.
They have us surrounded. There is no going back now. The great extermination must commence.
A week ago they visited the kitchen, zipping from shadow to shadow; their chitinous little backs taunting me as they scurried past.
Then I noticed them by the toilet and in the closet, small and large. At times they fell from some high place and frantically slid down the wall or casually landed and stood, antennae shifting, hairy legs rustling, disgusting me completely. The frequency of their presence growing and grinding on my nerves.
When they began to emerge in twos and threes, gleefully dancing about on our counter tops, my father bought a special paste to lure and poison them. I applied said paste and within a day their twitching bodies were littered across our cream carpet.
Tomorrow the fogger comes. Tomorrow we will twist the knife with which the roach hoarde has been impaled. Let them fall that we may sweep their corpses in to sweet roach hell.