June 27, 2011

Blame It On The Books

Blog...

Blllloooooogg.

Bllllog.

That's a really gross sounding word. Blog. Sounds like a morbidly obese man barfing.
Sorry if that ruined the experience for you. I'm just feeling feisty today. I feel like running wild because I currently feel trapped as well. Someone has a collar around me and I don't appreciate it much. In fact, I think it's downright safe to say I hate it with a passion.

I didn't want to go to bed last night, and I really didn't want to get up this morning. And although I am super thankful for the great job that I have, I would love to be far away from here right now. I blame this on books. They make me jealous and screw with my mind. I'd say if I'm not seriously focused on something, then I am daydreaming. Probably 92% of my waking life is spent in some little fantasy cloud. Seriously, 92%.

Crap, I just got the Preamble to the Constitution stuck in my head...

I need to get out of here. But if I do, I'll just have another commitment to do when I get home and it's almost worse than work at this point. See how I'm trapped? There are more important things than these mindless tasks I do all day. Sure, it's important to my bosses, but for some reason Law doesn't hold my interest.  Once again, I blame it on the books. All those books that I love, the ones I hate. The ones that stare at me on the shelf, itching my curiosity, until I break down and have to buy it.

I'd say it's a love/hate relationship. They have this way of making my life seem uninteresting, unimportant, unfulfilling, uninspired, un... yeah. You get the point. But there is no way I'd ever stop reading them. Sometimes you just need an escape. I just have to be careful to not get addicted to it.

My brain is warped.

I need to get back to pretending like I have something to do. Sorry for the negativity and ranting.

Peace out.

June 13, 2011

A Good Day with a Splash of Rage

Good day so far. The first 4-5 hours of work usually are the longest, but today for some reason, they seemed to zip by. It's now almost 2 and I'm finishing up on my lunch (I've been eating leftovers for the last 4 days).

I just jumped into this blog and realized that I don't have much to say, but for the sake of creativity and possibly sanity, I force myself to press onward.

.  .  .

Let's just say that I'm on fire.  My brain is burning, my eyes are burning, the muscles in my back and legs are burning.  The source of the fire is uncertain.  But I just realized I'm angry.  Or just feeling feisty.  I'm frustrated with this black swivel chair that is my constant companion 9 hours a day, 5 days a week.  I'm mad at the little lizard outside my window that taunts me, saying "you can't catch me, sucker".  I'm fed up with married men strolling about the office making their coffee, leaving the toilet seat up, and being devilishly distracting.  I'm angry at my hair for being split at the ends and my suede shoes that are getting dirty from overuse.  I'm mad at my skirt for continuing to rise up to my bellybutton, a place I believe no clothes line should touch.  I'm frustrated with eBay and all the sellers on there, for making me wait for the items I purchased.  And I'm still on fire.

And I'm still having a good day.  I have 3.5 hours of work left and someone just gave me a new project that entitles me to draw on paper; something that undeniably fills me with joy.  I do have something to do later tonight, but I don't feel like doing it.  I'm feeling like an innie bellybutton.  I just want some time to myself, maybe float in the pool despite the fact I may not get any sun, damning me to eternal whiteness, but that's okay with me.  I just want some quiet time where I don't have to move, or think about your feelings, my feelings, work, males, text messages, Facebook, calories, plans, obligations, surgeries, nothing.

Silence. Floating on the perfectly lukewarm water. Bobbing quietly on the slight ripples.

I'm not sure if you can hear that, but I sure can. and right now, that's all I want in the world. But I wont get it. Not today. Maybe I could try late at night if I'm not too busy. But that's okay if I can't.

Because today is still a good day.

June 03, 2011

That Hungry Short Girl

   I don't really have a problem with my size, but some days I fantasize about being 5'9" will long legs and elegant features.  Heck, I'd settle for 5'5 and a smaller nose!  Another thing about my size (thankfully, I'm over 5') is that people tend to think I'm younger than I actually am, and I believe they tend to take me less seriously.
 
   So at work, I'm the new girl, and trying to find my little place is hard.  I'm not sure how I'm supposed to act exactly.  My last job was cake since I was the only English speaker, therefore I partially dominated.  New job?  I think they see me as The Short Hungry Girl.  I'm definitely the youngest (I'll be pushing 19 soon, woot!), and most definitely the smallest.  Everyone else is either married or has been married; some even have kids close to my age.  Not to be all sobby, but I feel very unqualified.  I haven't been breathing as long as they have; you could say I'm still "wet behind the ears".

    Oh, to explain the 'Hungry' part of my title.  I don't know about the rest of the human race, but I find it harder to work while I'm hungry, so I prefer to have food nearby so I don't start chewing on the desk.  I started taking my lunch breaks at Safeway, stocking up on pop-tarts, pb&j, and Ritz.  A whole lot of Ritz.

    Nancy (my motherly co-worker), now sees me as the girl that will eat anything with sugar in it.  That's not entirely true, but I wont outright deny it.  She brings in things her own daughter wont eat (i.e. granola bars, toaster stroodles), because she knows that I'll eat them for her.  A nice gesture, but I feel misunderstood.

    I'm pretty sure no one here takes me seriously.  I'm the girl who sends the fax and puts the postage on your letters... and is hungry 24/7.  That's another thing, I'm going to have to start getting active if I want to keep my girlish figure.  I don't want to get what my dad likes to call "Office-Butt".  Don't tell me you don't know what that means; we've all seen it (or have it).
 
New goals:

  • Become respected and feared!  ...okay, respected.
  • Find a way to get active (like a sport or actually use my gym membership).
  • Buy healthier food to keep around the office.
  • Ween myself off of Pop-Tarts and Ramen.
  • Turn 19. (Hey, I want to be able to meet at least 1 of my goals).
  • Kiss my boyfriend. (Okay, there's 2).
  • Convince others to write down their own goals.
(Really, you should.  It's very helpful and I've always heard it's only a wish until it's written down.)

*whew* That was a good blogging session, I believe.  I'm going to go get a cookie to celebrate.

Till next time!  Peace.