Yeah, I know, I suck.
I promised to record every nitty-gritty detail of unemployment, for your edification/education/sick pleasure. And I have no real excuse for failing to keep this simple vow. Rather, I have thousands, but none of them are particularly valid.
The truth is, I have not felt particularly funny lately. Or clever. Or able to make witty observations about life and the culture in which I exist. I have felt stressed, worried, anxious, and other words that describe not-goodness.
I have been apartment-hunting which, as I have stated, really sucks. I may have something good somewhere. It looks optimistic. But I am not optimistic. At all. Optimism withers and dies in my presence, leaving the black ashes of misery and sullen sarcasm in its wake.
Job-hunting is going even worse, as you may have suspected from the title of this entry. Apparently nobody wants to hire a journalist with no experience. I could always go the way of Hunter S. Thompson, and join the Army and write on their paper, but me in the army would probably be something like Catch-22, only tragic instead of funny. Also, everyone dies horribly. And the pages would be wet toilet paper.
Another thing. I am deeply, deeply paranoid. I understand and accept this flaw. I try to improve it (as much as I try to improve anything, which really isn't much). However, it still is a pretty big fucking flaw, and causes me enormous amounts of stress and anxiety. Some of which I am currently feeling. The cause of my stress? The usual culprit: text messaging.
I have sent texts to three different people, and NONE of them have responded. These people do not hang out. They do not know each other. And yet I am comvinced that they and their loved ones are sitting around saying vicious, shitty things about me RIGHT NOW. And I know my friends aren't like that. About people they like. But isn't it WEIRD that nobody is answering me? ISN'T IT?!
Also, I may have royally pissed off another friend of mine, who also has yet to answer my text message. She's driving through states, and was going to stop for a visit and coffee. But she missed the turn-off, got stuck in the vile New Jersey traffic, and now hasn't answered my phone calls or text messages. So she's either dead, or annoyed, in my mind. That's how things are in Elle's head. You either answer my texts before I fucking SEND them, or are pissed at me. Or you're dead. And that's probably my fault too.
So this is how things are in my head right now. The text messages are getting frantic, paranoid, needy, and vaguely hostile. And NO ONE is answering. Bad vibrations in my little, twisted brain.
At the rate I'm going, my friends are going to wake up with me leaning over them in the dark, a depraved look in my eyes as I hiss, "Your phone is working just fine."
This is one of those ideas that is funny until the cops show up.
And so much for that. This was meant to destress me and let me see how ridiculous and stupid I'm being. Instead, now I think I'm perceptive and intuitive. If nobody answers me soon, I'll probably convince myself I'm a psychic. I'll set up a franchise, trademark my anxiety, and end up with a cable TV show that will be badly received. You all should watch it.
May your text messages be answered promptly. If you are slow to answer text messages, may you have uncontrollable gas that will only cease if you answer your damn texts.
- LV
NOTE: Go to my friend Esse, otherwise known as Sa's blog. You will love it so much you will immediately stop reading my blog, and wonder why you settled so long for such trash. Wait...
I promised to record every nitty-gritty detail of unemployment, for your edification/education/sick pleasure. And I have no real excuse for failing to keep this simple vow. Rather, I have thousands, but none of them are particularly valid.
The truth is, I have not felt particularly funny lately. Or clever. Or able to make witty observations about life and the culture in which I exist. I have felt stressed, worried, anxious, and other words that describe not-goodness.
I have been apartment-hunting which, as I have stated, really sucks. I may have something good somewhere. It looks optimistic. But I am not optimistic. At all. Optimism withers and dies in my presence, leaving the black ashes of misery and sullen sarcasm in its wake.
Job-hunting is going even worse, as you may have suspected from the title of this entry. Apparently nobody wants to hire a journalist with no experience. I could always go the way of Hunter S. Thompson, and join the Army and write on their paper, but me in the army would probably be something like Catch-22, only tragic instead of funny. Also, everyone dies horribly. And the pages would be wet toilet paper.
Another thing. I am deeply, deeply paranoid. I understand and accept this flaw. I try to improve it (as much as I try to improve anything, which really isn't much). However, it still is a pretty big fucking flaw, and causes me enormous amounts of stress and anxiety. Some of which I am currently feeling. The cause of my stress? The usual culprit: text messaging.
I have sent texts to three different people, and NONE of them have responded. These people do not hang out. They do not know each other. And yet I am comvinced that they and their loved ones are sitting around saying vicious, shitty things about me RIGHT NOW. And I know my friends aren't like that. About people they like. But isn't it WEIRD that nobody is answering me? ISN'T IT?!
Also, I may have royally pissed off another friend of mine, who also has yet to answer my text message. She's driving through states, and was going to stop for a visit and coffee. But she missed the turn-off, got stuck in the vile New Jersey traffic, and now hasn't answered my phone calls or text messages. So she's either dead, or annoyed, in my mind. That's how things are in Elle's head. You either answer my texts before I fucking SEND them, or are pissed at me. Or you're dead. And that's probably my fault too.
So this is how things are in my head right now. The text messages are getting frantic, paranoid, needy, and vaguely hostile. And NO ONE is answering. Bad vibrations in my little, twisted brain.
At the rate I'm going, my friends are going to wake up with me leaning over them in the dark, a depraved look in my eyes as I hiss, "Your phone is working just fine."
This is one of those ideas that is funny until the cops show up.
And so much for that. This was meant to destress me and let me see how ridiculous and stupid I'm being. Instead, now I think I'm perceptive and intuitive. If nobody answers me soon, I'll probably convince myself I'm a psychic. I'll set up a franchise, trademark my anxiety, and end up with a cable TV show that will be badly received. You all should watch it.
May your text messages be answered promptly. If you are slow to answer text messages, may you have uncontrollable gas that will only cease if you answer your damn texts.
- LV
NOTE: Go to my friend Esse, otherwise known as Sa's blog. You will love it so much you will immediately stop reading my blog, and wonder why you settled so long for such trash. Wait...
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