I wish I could say that it's nice to be working again, and really mean it. This job is like every other job—a pointless diversion. But I really want money. I really need money. I could share how much money is in my bank account, but the patheticness of such a revelation is too much for me to bear. I'll continue to show up to work. The people I work with are bizarre. They take their jobs too seriously. People, we're not doctors! We offer screen printing service to companies! It's not life or fucking death! Calm thee down! Whatever. I ain't sweatin' those hos! Sadly, I've already been told by one of my co-workers that I may not want to “try too hard” as some people perceive such efforts to be grandstanding. Ridiculous.
My goal is to save and live like a miser. I have no desire to go out more than I have to, or spend any time outside of home if it's not necessary. Once I start getting paid my only goal will be to find a nice six-pack or bottle of Cabernet and make my way home every night for a bubble bath or movie.
I made the mistake of attending a free Yelp event on Friday night, thinking that doing so I might meet some nice people and find a proverbial silver lining in the fact that I am, once again, in a city that I hate. This is my home town, but it is still a city I have learned is not much of a city. The free booze at the event was nice. I got to dance drunk. Other than that, I felt like I was in high school again. And I hated high school. What's more, some drunk jack ass came up to me, courtesy of one of the alcohol sponsors, to talk to me about the wonderful free rum (rum I didn't drink), and how great it is that it's made here in our own home! Whoopdee-fucking-doo! I looked him straight in the eye and said, “So what?” He was drunk, drunker than me. “What do you mean, 'So what?' Everything from here is the shit, man! We're the shit!” I shook my head. “Have you ever lived anywhere but this shitty little wannabe city?” “Why would I want to, it's the shit!” And that is one of many reasons why I can't wait to leave this provincial little hole again.
I keep having dreams about San Francisco and Oakland. Really. I have had dreams where I am alone, walking along the Bay; dreams where I am sitting in a BART train with no special destination; dreams where I am at TO1's house having dinner and drinks; dreams where I am at the Paramount theatre in Oakland watching Jenna, my best friend, dance again . . . I miss California. But I'm 100% positive that I won't end up back in California for anything other than visits. I want more of the world. I need to see more, I need to experience more, and then, we'll see where I stand.
Otherwise, I just am.