Light as a feather...

These past few days have been nothing but tiring and depressing. If you thought my outlook on life was bleak before, wait until you read on.

Working in the retail business during the holidon't season has taken a toll on my sanity, well, what was left of it anyhow. I've realized what chumps people are. They want the world handed to them on a silver platter, and they don't care how much the silver platter costs; just put it on the Visa, they'll say. They don't even bother looking around for what they want. They all flock right over to customer service, or better yet, someone in a red apron whose heading to the break room. Always headed toward the break room. It's like they don't want you to eat or give you the chance to pee. They must think it's funny watching you squirm as you show them where the Gloss Your Own Christmas Balls sets are. I'll give 'em a set of balls to gloss. Their own. And then I'll tell them where to shove them.

A woman yelled at me while I was working. She told me to do my job. Excuse me? I wanted to say. Do my job? Howabout your job of being a respectable human being instead of a total asshead? Instead of losing my cool - - -and we all know I have tons of that - - - I killed her with kindness, so to speak. With a voice two pitches higher than normal.

But to even things out, a woman came through my line and blessed me. No, folks, I didn't sneeze. She was, and I quote, "a messenger of the Lord." I was taken aback, but I remained calm as I packed up her red feather boa and hemp jewelry kit and thanked her kindly for passing God's good cheer over my way. I made sure to shower when I got home. I don't want to catch your religion.

I've been getting home so late these past few nights that no one has even been up when I get home. I make myself some reheated dinner, usually T'giving leftovers, and sit and stare at the wall as I sit alone and eat. And then I go to bed. Rinse and repeat. If I knew this is how life was going to be I wouldn't have ever signed up.

And as for friends, well, we know how that goes. Not only is Marissa a trainwreck in the relationship department, but make that ditto for friends. I don't evenknow why I bother sometimes. Friends that have showed promise for always being around haven't been around. In a long time. One friend hasn't even spoken to me in about 3 months now. And it's not like I haven't tried, I call and leave messages but to no avail. And if I mean that little to him that he can't even bring himself to tell me what's up, then I need to cut the ties and move on. I could use my Verizon minutes elsewhere.

I've also been realizing that I'm a bit of masochist when it comes to emotional relationships. The poison levels keep rising and I just keep going back, like some sort of addict. They should have a Betty Ford clinic for love fiends. I wish I could tear myself away once and for all and never go back. Ever.

I have three college applications sitting in my room, waiting anxiously until I cash my paycheck to pay the hefty application fees that go along with it. I don't understand why I have to pay $40 now for a college I don't really even want to go to. Or $50 to the one college I really want to go to, considering they'll be getting $36,000/year of my hard earned money for the rest of my life. It hardly seems worth it. And a degree for what? Writing? Look, I'm doing that now with an ASS degree. I earn the OCIATES part of that degree this May. 

I have a hard time wrapping my mind around the amount of money people spend in my store. I rang up a person for $450 today, and they bought nothing but garland. I wouldn't even pay that for Judy Garland. And somewhere down the street I'm sure there's a man with no home and no food in his stomach, but at least the man's house he sleeps in front of is decorated nicely. Priorities.

Class starts up again tomorrow. Two more weeks until finals and I am nowhere near ready. Nor do I feel like being ready. That depression thing is kicking in full speed again. Anthony and I went to Barnes and Noble last night and I made my maiden voyage into unchartered territory. The self-help section. I know it's time for some help. I picked up the latest edition of Depression for Dummies and turned to the front cover. It had a checklist of all the symptoms and traits of depression and guess who got a 17/20? That's right. Yours truly. Here I was beginning to think it was all in my head. Who knew I'd be right?

I am beginning to wonder, however, if it's not just a chemical imbalance or a mood disorder, perhaps it's a bad case of PMDD? I think that's something worth looking into. I've noticed there are times when I feel worse than others, usually by mid-month and I'm not sure about a hormone imbalance since I've started using birth control, which gives me small extra doses daily of my hormones. I wish I could just find the answer. But I do know that going to a therapist again would be nothing more than expensive.

That's it for now. My bed is calling me and fortunately, I cannot think of better place to be right now. Unless of course, it was happiness. I hear it's better than air.

      My drug.