Whys and Wherefores

Today was my first full day of work. Shortly after I arrived, someone pointed out that I did not look happy to be there. I mumbled something like “I just got here” and walked off.

Much later, a fellow employee came up and spoke with me.
“So, you just bring the carts in all day?”
“Yeah.”
“… that sucks.”
“Well, I also help people load stuff into their cars when they ask me.”
“That sucks too.”

Anyway, I did it. Tomorrow I work again for 5 hours, then the next day another 9-hour shift (from 7 to 4) replete with lunch break. After that, a weekend.

The facebook advertisements that target specific users are odd to me. I see math ads, fat ads, and sex ads. I need to know how they divined my interests so accurately.

I created a new word today: retroid. Sure it’s been used before, but fuck that, I created it. I did not create a meaning, however. I think it explains itself well enough.

I know lots of people really enjoy reading “why me?” bullshit, so here it goes. Those with hypoactive pity glands may avert their eyes.

I’ve long been past the point when people ask me why I’m depressed. I just recently got to a point where I can satisfactorily answer. The real reason is because shit happens to me. My life is in a constant, steady decline, and there is no way out. Every time I try something new, or really do anything at all, my efforts fail or backfire without exception.

I went to a research experience and sat around for months. I take classes at UNL that cover material from freshman year but somehow more slowly. I attempted suicide. I looked for jobs. I interviewed at a potentially interesting job, but totally fucked up and got ignored.

I have to conclude that I am asking for too much from life. I will never get a job where I use my skills, interact with people, or help people. I will not find a subject that interests me. I will not be okay.

Just like work, the only thing that can console me is the fact that everything ends eventually. No matter how often I check the clock, I can rest safely knowing it will always be further along. Eventually I will finish my shift, no matter what.

Dreams

Today, I had two dreams.

1. I dreamed I caught the swine flu. I don’t really remember much else.

2. I dreamed I ate lunch with an old friend. She was kind of critical of me and I felt bad. She told me I shouldn’t have taken Parallel Parkway instead of I-70. I didn’t really think there was a huge difference between the two. If anything, it made me want to use Parallel anyway. I’m glad she drove separately.

Besides all of that, I made chocolate lava cakes. The lava is pretty good, but the cake part sucks. It is like eating a burnt sponge filled with melted ganache.

Monday is one of the days when I go my phlebotomy class. I’m kind of tired of it, but it’s a skill I might use in the future. Tonight we decided what food people would bring on the day of the final. People take a lot of food to that class. I signed up to make butterfinger bar cookies.

Today I got my heart tested to make sure it works correctly. They had to inject me with radioactive crap twice to see how well my heart is functioning. The second time was after I had run on a treadmill for a while. It didn’t take long because I am in poor shape.

Tomorrow I have a job interview at a local government contracting firm. I will likely do some sort of programming work. I will meet with two different project heads to see if either one is interested in me. If so, I will make some money this summer.

After that I will be going to Home Depot to give them my social security card and proof of identification. I am going to be working at Home Depot. I guess my drug screening and background check came through okay. This weekend I have to get trained at a Home Depot somewhere near Buttfuck, Kansas, the heart of the heartland. Someone will have to explain why they don’t train Home Depot employees here.

I saw the Wolverine movie this weekend. I have to say I’m glad it did well, although it wasn’t great, because it will mean more movies will be made. I’ve enjoyed the X-Men series so far, so it’s good that there will be more of them.

No one thinks my suicide jokes are funny. I want to explain that suicide is not a depressing thing. It is the end of depression. The alternative to suicide is an entire life of waiting around. Everyone else thinks the choice is clear, and so do I. It’s like shouting out an answer in a classroom then having everyone stare at you because you’re obviously wrong.

Anyway, I have to get up early, so I’m going to bed.