I’m going to need to be using this to feel like less of a crazy person as time goes on… meaning, while I am stuck in the dual camp-out of studying or being at work this week.

I’m sitting in my house writing a study guide and imagining what it will feel like to have time on my hands.

I wrote up a guide for a Werk Those Pecs website today also, and feeling good about that.

Everything feels very localized and slightly slow and I’m trying to keep my head above the fray just to take it all in.

If you ever wanted to interact with me ever again, the time is going to be in just 7 DAYS from today.

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least necessary use of G-cal goes to, Myself.

casualties of the 21st century.

BEING OLD, I HAVE ARRIVED!

Change it.

Today.

People will feel your passion if you really have it —

Meanwhile I’ll be over here, writing the world’s tiniest loneliest instruction book on how to stop falling in love with illusions. Meanwhile I’ll be over here, more in love with New York in the spring than I previously, each year, or ever, thought to be possible. More in love than a persons’ made me feel since I was oh about aged sixteen maybe.

WTF is wrong with me. Heart is closed and cold to all but the inanimate.

Yet I am looking out the window and it all feels okay.

Done.

Add “trans* tropes” and i’m sure I’ll be boring everyone in no time

Every time I become *too* productive and *too* optimized, I just start to get depressed and start to freak out and then that just sh*ts all over everything I am hypothetically working toward anyway.

So I’m trying this thing .. called.. breathing. Also called “not pushing myself to the absolute limit all day every day.” I think working nearly full-time, being in school, and otherwise having side projects and needing to manage the basics of my life (laundry, anyone?) all while trying to still go out and have fun ever is enough, yes?

Great.

And so it is that I’ve been sitting on my bed all Friday, well, all Friday ever since getting home from an ill-fated “career fair” that reminded me that I DON’T FREAKING WANT A CAREER RIGHT NOW. And by I don’t want, I mean no one will have me. Not without the sell-out degree that I am only quarterways (not even) toward attaining. But yes, I will get there, and I will enjoy doing so because I relish academic work with the kind of gusto occasionally reserved for meals and desserts. Yes, I will eventually, “EVENTUALLY” get to someplace roughly equal to where I want to be.

And by all that I mean, “fuck you, America”.

I really was not made for capitalism. None of us were, but I especially am not. I read too much, I think too much, I even talk too much and then say the wrong things. I secretly hate everyone and am bad at hiding it. I not-secretly hate AMERICA and that makes people distrust me. I’m no one’s perfect autamaton. The list goes on.

Also, remember that part where I got a college education? Fucking apparently, I would have done better to go back to Eighth Grade computers tutorial and boned up on Excel spreadsheets again, considering that’s all that any prospective employers care about anyway. Intelligence and superior writing skills on the job? FUCK IT!! As long as you can be where they say, study for their rigged tests, and promise to not have a personality, you’re a lot better off than me in this job market. Also, don’t be as “depressingly realist” as I am, and don’t have thought through the problems of society. That seems to be the other pieces of the puzzle.

So once again, fk jobs, fk this economy, and fk the fact that I have to work for a living at ALL. It’s clear to me that I don’t like following rules. I don’t understand people who don’t mind the status quo. I wish I could smash it.

I figured I should try writing on here once in a while when I’m in an *empowered*, can-do mood

like for example i just ate a legitimate BOWL of salad. with like half a container of Ranch dressing on top and a million croutons all mixed up in something that resembled a vessel a family should eat from. i’m going to consider this progress, some sort of regression-mixed-with-adulthood combo that equals out to success.

i can feed myself. YAY basics!

anyway, moving on. it seems I have also managed to study and secure a phone call with an accountant who may or may not have work for me tomorrow. also made more decisions about the party (YAY— wtp will be happening once more!) and decided what i absolutely can and cannot stand for. boundaries!

plus gonna wake up tomorrow and run some errands, get some shit done <3

then just work and tests til Friday FML

and then fun again! can’t wait for the weekend woo! this was some teenaged-girl shit in a post, brought to you by yours truly.

Facts about me: I should really and probably be writing an experimental novel about transitioning genders and societal blind spots and racism in America and lots of other boring hot-button issues.

I’m going to be 25 and I’m feeling that tug; that WHAT HAVE YOU ACCOMPLISHED TODAY? feeling and it comes up almost every day and all it makes me want to do is write and write. And read articles on Autostraddle that deconstruct popular concepts of queerness; and let my eyes glaze over looking at girls on OKCupid as I think about how I’ll probably never find love except for when I’m not looking for it but I feel like I’m always looking, so, Catch-22. And all the people I’ve left behind etcetera.

I guess what I’m trying to say is, I’ve been working every Saturday night for the past three months and I’m pretty tired of it. In my most dramatic fantasies, I don’t have any friends left because they have all accepted that my weekends are subsumed by the restaurant. In my more realistic imaginings, I have to understand that all of my friends are establishing their own lives which may or may not include me all day every day. Even though those are the kinds of relationships that I desire; that’s what I crave. Heteronormativity will ultimately and inevitably take over and couple us all, even the gay ones; very much to my dismay but I’ll be forced to accept that tide of change along with the rest of it.

I just want someone to be devastated by the lack of my presence so I don’t feel like I’ve been the only one. I just want to live in the city, the country, and not the suburbs. I just want too many things. I want it all and I feel like one day I’ll realize I’ve reached for it all but it’s a sandcastle on the beach and a wave will knock it over and i’ll be left at the shore, wet sand slipping between my fingers and back into the sea.