I can't deal...

I have rage issues.
Where I feel the need to hit things. I gnash my teeth and go through all sorts of comflama. Why? It's a coping mechanism. I don't know.

Working in customer service, its so hard to grit your teeth and deal.


Peoeple are assholes, they never have enough time, or they have too much time and want to take baby steps.
Management sucks. They want you to do 5 jobs for 1 person's meager pay.

Some days...

I just can't deal.

So, I ball up my fists and i hit my desk, the cubicle when I really just want to hit the person. It's like a fiery passion in my belly and travels up and spreads from my shoulders to my hands.

Eureka!

I'm an idiot(no not because of the Afroman thing)I've been praying to the god of blogging for comments but when I looked at the blog for the first time in a while..ya know to change stuff around..there wasn't a link to make comments...DUH! I've fixed it because I am so freakin smart!

Comment away! (only comments that tell me how super sweet, funny, and smart I am)

Mole Hill into a Mountain

I have wittled my glorious paycheck down to a whopping $0.21. My account balance mocks me. I have a transfer of $20 pending. This is so I can actually get to work for the next week...but even that seems bleak.

No one has money around me and I am reduced to scraping up change to get by for right now.

I'm applying to every job I can.

I am so depressed (not helped by the fact that I have my period)

So, what does a girl like me do?
She hints to Afroman that she is sad. She hints to him as to what is the problem then resolves she doesn't want to go into detail, then she starts cracking jokes to alleviate the tension and dry those little tears, then...she loses it when he laughs at something that wasn't meant to be a joke and continues to keep laughing when she asks him to stop.


I am so done. Done. Done. Done. Done. Done. Done. Done. Done.


DONE.

I have gone down from feeling like shit..to the flies surrounding the shit after its sat there for a while.


I just don't know anymore.

Tick Tick Tock

I feel like I am a ticking time bomb ready to explode.
Constantly exhausted.
Overworked.
Underpaid.
Cable/Interenet less at home.

The posterchild for neighors in bathrobes saying I'm such a nice girl.

Because really, I am.

Such a nice girl that is.

Gye Nyame

Connexion! Maybe that's why I blog. Because when I read other people's
blogs...I feel connected to them because I too fall for the wrong
guy/get my heart broken/love black and white romance films. I also like
the anonymity. One of my readers stumbled onto my fb page. One is
Afroman. Maybe others know who I am/what I look like...but for the
others I am a green page. I like that. On the train, there stood a man
with a peculiar tattoo on his wrist. And when he held the pole, he had
another armband tattoo. At first glance, he looked like another black
professional fighting glass ceilings but then I stared at the wrist
tattoo and I have the same one. Gye nyame. God is supreme. It had me
thinking about what that means. About what I thought it meant. It was
supposed to give me hope and it confuses me because I question whether
or not there is a god or God. I remember raising my hand in protest when
my Jewish English teacher wrote god without a capital 'G'. I was
outraged OUTRAGED. And now my heart only mldly flutters...
Time and maturity are a trip.
But, I've gone away from the point. Looking at my tattoo on a stranger's
wrist makes me feel like we're in on something a lot of people don't
know. Ghanaians have a series of symbols that mean certain things that
they use on clothes and young people graffiti on walls? And maybe his
tattoo's meaning has morphed into something different. And maybe its
just always nice to know that you can look at someone and go. Me too.
By reading their blog.
Or looking iinto their eyes
Or by suspiciously staring at their wrist.
You can go...me too.

Me too.

::Huff::

God grant me the serenity not to kill
Small animals
Dumb tourists
People who sneeze, sigh, or release anything...air, liquid, solid from
their bodies w/o covering the mouths/orifices.

Because that really really annoys me.

I'm in a deep funk, brought on primarily by lack of cable and money and
the knowledge that both of these wil be the consistent norm for the next
8 days.

And...I seiously hate my job.
Going home to cuddle with Gypsy and make Chicken Alfredo.

Here's to hoping that my mood lifts by the end of my commute.

Or else Kelis and Gnarls Barkley will have to pull out the big guns....

Big Girls Don't Cry

..but they sure hold in their anger until they're ready to pummel anyone within pummeling range. arrgh!

more to come.