I had a bit of a freakout a few weeks ago. It honestly made me never want to post to this blog again...there are just people out there that I don't want my entire life to be out there for them to read. And I can't get away from them, because it just doesn't work that way. I don't even want to give them the satisfaction of knowing for sure that I'm writing about them, and as a result, I'm completely aware that what's coming out here is just the incoherent ramblings of a paranoiac, since I'm giving no specifics on what happened. So now comes the whole "do I move my blog? Do I keep blogging at all?" Internal struggle.
I don't even fucking know anymore. And I'm so tired of worrying and second-guessing. And I'm about to be hella busy. The school year is gearing up in less than a week, at which point I'll have to stop being a pretend Cubmaster and start actually doing the real-ass shit that comes with the hot uniform (long shorts and olive green knee-socks? Anyone?). Like running meetings and stuff. And S and I are taking piano lessons together, starting tonight. And I've finally figured out what the hell I want to be when I grow up, so I'm going back to school. My first class is the 20th. I'm only taking 6 credit hours this semester, just enough to get my feet wet and see what I can handle. It's going to take me FOREVER. I'll be done with school right about the time when hell freezes over, George Bush finds his ass with the aid of a map and a compass, and Lindsey Lohan manages to stay sober for five minutes at a time. By the time I graduate, they'll probably have to award my degree posthumously, because I'll have already been dead for approximately 38 years. This is not only because I'll be working for at least the first little while of being in school...it's also because I couldn't just pick something normal to do with my life and spend 4 years getting some degree to qualify me for whatever that might be. Nope, I have to pick one of the hardest, most competitive fields out there, with the highest amount of required schooling, the intimidation factor of which, all this time, has kept me in a place where my entire skill set consists of being able to do all manner of things mindlessly secretarial. I've known for a very long time that it was the only thing I truly felt such an affinity with that I'd be willing to get myself ass-deep in student loans and sit through innumerable lectures, but it isn't an easy road, and I was scared to try. Still am, truth be told. Somehow, though, I've found the intestinal fortitude to at least give it a shot. Go me. I sincerely wish I wanted to do something else, but I don't, and there you go.
Jury's still out on whether or not I'm going to talk specifically about what that is here.
And then there's work, which is really what got my ass in gear to go back to school in the first place. My boss is genuinely a great guy, but him aside, I'm sick to death of watching people who are measurably more stupid than I am make 3 or 4 times more money than I do, either because their cousin-in-law is the supreme high muckamuck of some department or other, or because they're blowing someone's cousin-in-law on the side (I'm assuming, judging from some of the worthless carcasses that remain employed there for no discernible reason), or simply because they reportedly have a penis (there is a VERY low ratio of female management in my company). In the meantime, on any given day I have to fend off several efforts on the part of said cousins-in-law and their respective blowers to get me to do their jobs for them, either by manipulation, attempted intimidation or out-and-out railroading.
Wow. I am just Little Miss Fucking Sunshine today, aren't I? Sweetness and light personified. Maybe I'll try and come up with something amusing to put here later.