I lost track. I think I have 21 weeks left. Pretty sure. I keep a notebook in my work locker. Originally it was to take notes on things, but there’s not much to take notes on. So now I just use it to write down my thoughts when we aren’t doing anything. Like this place. By 6 months, it should be full of my angry, sad, depressing thoughts. But I guess it’s also helping me work through my thoughts on everything.
Work is dreadful as usual. Getting up at 3 in the morning is getting real fucking old. And for the past two weeks I haven’t even worked a full 42 hours cause of Christmas and New Years. I’m not looking forward to going back to 42 now that I actually do stuff. Saturday we cleaned out the belly pans for the high elevators. That meant getting covered in disgusting dust and grime while holding a heavy ass metal plate up in the air while I’m on a ladder. Then I replaced proximity sensors. More getting on my knees and sticking my hands in cramped conveyor belts. It’s already paying off to have bought those knee pads for myself. I’m not blowing out a knee for this fucking job. Otherwise Saturday is usually quiet. It’s the weekdays that are more miserable.
My co workers are nice, but are starting to get on my nerves. Particularly this one young dude. He’s helped me a lot when I was shadowing him, but he’s more on the loud side. I’m not a talker and I just want to do my job. So I guess I’m coming off as cold when I don’t match his energy. Oh well. Just there to work. He also asked me to cover for his shift on Tuesday. I told him I was looking to schedule a doctor’s appointment, which was true, but no way in hell was I adding 12 hours to my 42 hour work week. I’m here to do the bare minimum for 6 months and save money. I’m not going to start a fucking career as a technician. That’s why I’ve started applying for jobs again. 3 a day. Probably should do more, but that’s all the energy I have after a 12 hour day. I don’t know. I’ve been over it a thousand times about worrying about getting stuck.
Here’s some stupid statistics. I’ve been on this dumb fucking dating app for 30 days starting tomorrow. I’m allowed to like and message 8 profiles a day because I have the free version and I refuse to pay for it on principal. I already hate the conceit of online dating. So I’ve been doing the max likes every day. Mainly because I hate myself and now I’ve become addicted to tapping on buttons on a screen cause of my broken brittle potentially ADHD brain. 30 times 8 is 240. 240 different women. All of different ethnic backgrounds, ages, beliefs, interest, and sizes. And not a single one of them sent me a like back. 240 people and not a single one. How many of those even saw my message? How many of them just thought I was unattractive? How many of them didn’t like my hobbies/tastes? How many of them weren’t interested in a short term relationship which is all I can do since I refuse to be here longer than 6 months? How many are a combination of the last three? I know none of this. So I just have to assume the worst and think I’m so unattractive that not one person out of 240 would even want to talk to me. That’s not even factoring the 4 or so people that got a “super like” where I showed up on the top of their list so they must have seen it. So I know for a fact that at least 4 people thought I was simply unattractive. That’s 240 people I didn’t have to talk to and never had to see if I never started trying. No effort was working for me for the past 27 years. Why ruin that? And tomorrow I’m going to that stupid trivia night thing after two weeks and I’m probably just going to be disappointed again. Wonderful.