Sometimes, I just get so frustrated and mad, then at first it feels like I’m stuck, can’t move. Then my hands start shaking, arms, I clench and unclench random muscles… I can push more, but stopping it isn’t something I can do.
I tried, that was a mistake. That sums it up. I applied to more jobs, because even some money would be better than being absolutely destitute. I “heard back” from two. One asked me to keep working on my application last night. Then, before I woke up today, they sent me an email that they weren’t interested. What the ever loving fuck? I know it was an automated thing, but could you make it any more clear how little value you think people that apply to work with you put on their time? This was a federal contractor, my stupid tax dollars pay for this degradation.
Then, I applied for a job that was well below my best, but I was willing. They emailed me asking for more information, I got back in and was stuck on the first page. I entered my phone number, then it said I needed to enter my phone number…
I think one has to really have more self hatred than I have left to keep trying to suck the toes of those who hold all the cards. Suck your own toes, I just enjoy being productive, something lacking in the modern workplace, like a living wage. Fuck.
I wish I had a lead on better drugs. That’s my ongoing threat, one I make no secret of; if I find someone willing to sell me heroine, I’m going to get in on that. It makes you sleep, and it kills you… talk about a win/win. I’m sure my therapist/parents would say that isn’t a productive fantasy…. well neither is getting a job, or not being a meaningless serf with no positive outcome from employment. Those are just as fantastic, actually more so, than my little heroine daydream. I know if I gathered the cash and went looking that I could get heroine, black market hookups are always around…. unlike legit employment.
I want to go to high schools and give them motivational speeches about how they should drop out and do drugs, that’s where we all end up anyway. I was stupid, bought into the idea that effort effected outcome, should have invested in crime.
I found a song in German, about how life sucks, and the solution is bank robbery. I don’t know, spoke to the pointless feeling I have inside.
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Talking of rejection, I’d like to share a sweet episode, one of many I got in my box of chocolates. A decade ago but I can almost smell the room it’s still so vivid. They had two rounds of interviews. After the first, one of the interviewers came out to declare the order of second round of interviews. When he’s done calling, I yank up my hand: ‘I’m sorry I missed my number.’
He: ‘Your name again?’
I: ‘*******.’ (*sorry-ass smile)
He (quick glance at the notepad): ‘I’m sorry *******, you didn’t make it to 2nd.’
I: ‘Oh, uh, okay, I, uh.. it was nice working.. I mean, thank you for the.. etc.’
There were around 15 applicants in the suite that evening and I was the only one that walked out of the hotel after the 1st round. Humiliating? Nope, just a day in my life.