Archive for the ‘ Ranty McRanterson ’ Category

Saturday, October 17th, 2009

Between being beaten up at work, coming home and falling asleep at 6 pm only to wake up at 1:30AM WHEN I HAVE TO BE UP AT 5:50 TOMORROW TO DO IT AGAIN, the job overall, and the fact that people I thought were friends won’t talk to me because of a third party’s petty stupidity, and I’ve pretty much had it with this town and with these people and with this job and with the whole rat race in general.

I’m about one psychotic break away from packing up my car and moving to Saskatoon, changing my name, and refusing to play nice anymore. Because frankly, I may only be 24, the best may be yet to come, but if I want to be around to enjoy it, it’s gotta be more bearable now.

 
Friday, July 24th, 2009

Everything’s been so very up and down lately. The job is good, the job is bad, friends are good, friends are non-existent, we have jellybeans at lunch but I can’t find time to fit dinner in.

More and more lately though, I’ve found myself wanting something resembling a solid continuous presence in my life-it’s like I’m living that stupid Nickelback song or something. I’m not even talking about a love interest, persay, just another brain I can turn to and be like “goddammit, I forgot the bread” that will go out and miraculously make bread appear before I need it.

I guess in a nutshell, I’m realizing that while I can take care of myself, it’s awfully high stress to do so right now. If the job were less thankless and more fulfilling, or I got more time off to recoup from it maybe I’d be dealing on a higher level, but as of right now, it’s just a grind.

Someday, maybe I’ll figure out what I can be doing that makes me feel like the world needs me a little more than it needs a glorified ticket taker. At this point I think I’m too stuck in moral fulfillment mode still. I’m still the idealistic college grad who wants to come out and CHANGE THE WORLD and either the world’s not so much in a place that supports that in anything I might do, or I’m mentally blocking myself from it because for once I’d like to be financially able to do a mess of other things, like travel.

And there’s the rub. I want to travel, I want to meet people and interact with them and basically be a cultural packrat, but to do that you need money, to get money, you need a job, and with a job comes restriction on the time you have to go wander at will.

Always a catch 22, isn’t there?

 
Sunday, April 26th, 2009

We’ve skipped Spring in D.C. and gone right for summer. I’m remembering again that I don’t deal well with humidity and heat in the same place at once unless it’s voluntary. This silly swampland thing can go… do rude things to itself as far as I’m concerned.

No, really, I know I’ll adapt. I always do, but the first week or so I’m a crabby mc crabberson. It doesn’t help that everyone here has A/C either, because then I’ll be tempted to turn it on in the apartment, and I know I don’t really need it, as I survived two Central PA summers without it and without dying. I’m just going to have to get good again at walking around with a water bottle and being willing to pee, instead of just figuring out my water balance and intaking only to a level that I sweat out, a stupid skill that I learned working in a desert over the summer a few years ago.

In other news, starting the new job tomorrow at the Capital Visitor Center, which all but promises the fact that the social media job at the Smithsonian will call me on Thursday and say “So, we want to interview you, you are made of AWESOME” and I’ll have to spend the weekend beating my head against hard objects and lamenting the fact that NOTHING CAN BE EASY HERE, CAN IT, LIFE?

And let’s not get started on the fact that Dane Cook’s car alarm guy has moved into my condo complex and is unleashing the fury on all of us any time someone drives by the car. No joke, I’ve heard it at least three times today ALONE. It’s only funny with the words for so long…

Ooof. I have a lot to do in paperwork today. But first, whatever Last.fm decides to give me labeled with “Finland.”

 
Sunday, April 19th, 2009

I need to get back to doing things that make me happy. I’m not on this planet to live for other people, and sometimes things aren’t always going to go the way the rest of the world wants.

I mean, I’m not going to go out and start robbing banks or anything, but I’m going to stop letting other people dictate what I’m feeling at any given time. I’ve got this habit of being too willing to bend over backwards for the sake of other people, but combine that with a wicked sense of justice and an abnormally short fuse for things that are just purely stupid and you’ve got someone who gets caught in the middle trying to fix everyone else’s problems until she can’t see a good way out for anyone, least of all herself, and then just goes off on all involved parties.

And frankly, I’m tired of being everyone else’s host-body right now. So here’s my new resolution.
People are not allowed to use me as an intermediary.
People are not allowed to tell me the same sob story more than twice.
People are not allowed to use things that are otherwise out of humanity’s control as a way of attempting to control me.
People are not allowed to leave emotions unvoiced and expect me to know what’s going on OR have any desire to fix it/give a damn.
People are not allowed to use material possessions as a source of power, emotionally or mentally.
People are not allowed to dredge up past events simply to pick fights.
True friends do not try to one-up the others, whether’s it’s for status, money, love, recognition, egomania or user tendencies.

So says the Teka. End transmission.

(And before any of y’all start getting all up in my grill about “I didn’t do that!” or “I didn’t mean it!” or any of that, I’m not targeting one or more person/groups of people specifically. I’m targeting where I see weaknesses in my ability to deal with life situations. Step off, it’s not all about you :-) In the words of the immortal Eleanor Roosevelt: “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.” This is my list to myself of ways to refuse consent. )

 
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