Meh

I am utterly uninspired at work. After attending a lovely party this Saturday in a gallery filled with "terrible toys" -- being surrounded by artists, comedians, bootleggers, persons of ambiguous gender in all manner of costume, and random freaks -- sitting in this little room, trying to conduct sensible negotiations with people stuck in the 1970s is personally defeating. I just want to say, "Shut up and listen to me! I don't care how you've done it for 15 years, this is 2003, and my way is better!" But that's not very diplomatic. Then someone calls up looking for a freelance position marketing my venue. Sister, that's my job, and you don't want it. It's only been 7 months, but I can barely take it anymore. If only I can tough it out for another year, I know it will be worth it. I just wish I could work in a record store. Where do all those people live who work in record stores? I bet they have roommates. Feh.

It's true, I'm just lazy. But you know, I'm not a machine. I don't think that being "productive" and "giving 100%" is really the point of living. I've gotta believe there's something more to it than developing a stellar resume and putting away enough dough to retire at 45. That all just seems like too much work to me. This is my way of rationalizing the fact that I haven't been proactive about marketing since the beginning of January. Hey, I'm still getting returns on the mailer. I need good data, right?

Maybe I should have a stoop sale. Eh, I don't have anything I'm willing to part with, except for a few shirts that I could wear someday. Yet I seem to have a whole bunch of stuff. Maybe boxing everything up in Rubbermaid bins will make me feel more at peace with my belongings. I can't stand it when there are things just hanging out in places without a holder of some kind, yet I have these stacks of magazines and videos on my floor. I just want to contain everything so I feel like I can just pick it all up and move it. I've got ants in my pants. Maybe I'm just premenstrual. No, it's ants.

Maybe it's my own fault, but I can't remember the last time I had a job and felt like I really fit in, like I got it, like I didn't feel like I could get fired at any time. I've never actually been fired ( I was laid off once), but I never feel all secure and happy. Here, especially, I don't really have any friends, and although I like being alone, and I like eating my lunch by myself, it's just boring. The only time things are happening, I'm being annoyed by people acting like I can't figure out easy shit or asking my opinion and just doing what they want to anyway. All this passive-aggressive bullshit. But I wouldn't have the first idea how to work for myself. I'd always rather just have someone tell me what to do, and do it, because when you have to make the shit up yourself, people are always second-guessing you and you have to prove yourself. Again, far too much work. At least I can go to karate. They don't mind bossing me around.