Happy #JESUSWEEN!!

May all your nuns be sexy, and candy be un-poisoned.

…until they could die and join all the other carcasses strewn across the wasteland of my soul.

I am in the mood to write an angst-filled depressing blog entry.  My current level of depression could be described as above average, and I am not quite sure exactly why this above average level of depression descended upon me.

I am fairly certain that said depression started settling in around me like a fog fairly early this morning when handed the schedule, and realizing that, no, last months cut in hours wasn’t something that was just going to go away despite having spoken sternly to the powers-that-be and hoping, futilely, that they would change their minds about having cut my hours and magically give them back to me.   They did not give my hours back to me.  Realizing this, I told myself that I did not care, and that it would be fine, and that I would get along just fine without said hours.  This is all well and good, and worked for a couple of hours.  Until… Until I realized just how incredibly pissed off I was about it. 

And then… Omg… and then, I got more angry about it when I thought more about it.  I should never think more about things.  First of all, only two of us regular employees (there are four of us) at my work (a work I used to love, but the love has been decreasing ever so steadily for the last three months or so…) saw a cut in our hours.  A cut, I might add, that was never mentioned before or after the schedule was passed out.  The schedule was passed out and we were just left to our own devices to figure out that, “Hey, I’m not scheduled to be here tomorrow.  That must be a mistake,” wasn’t actually a mistake.  It was planned.  And thought about… and plotted even.  This, in and of itself, is irksome.  It made me furious.  After realizing that my fury would not affect the state of my hours… I tried ignoring it…

… that worked for awhile.  Until this week.  This week… Remember how I mentioned that only two of us saw a cut in hours?  Well… lets talk about those two particular individuals.  You have me.  I am a great worker.  I show up on time.  I do my job efficiently.  I am willing to learn.  I take initiative.  I get things the fuck done.  Then, there is the other one.  He is the opposite of me.  I usually ignore that he gets away with doing absofreakinglutely nothing every single day of his existence.  It pisses me off.  I had gotten to a place in which I was able to ignore it (because again, I have spoken sternly about him to no avail), until This week.  He was late every single day this week by at least 20 minutes.  Tuesday, he came to work an hour and a freaking half late!!!  ONE AND A HALF HOURS!!! That is unacceptable.  As a worker, he is the opposite of me.

I started thinking about this today.  The depression that had been coalescing around my head like a fog creeping up over a pond on a crisp autumn morning thickened.  I bypassed the anger stage.  And then… and then… He had the audacity to tell us that there “are just a lot of things going on in his life right now, and that he was going to talk to the powers-that-be about it tomorrow.” OMFG. Does he not think that there are not a lot of things going on in my life?  Or my co-workers?  I don’t know who the hell he thinks he is, but just because I don’t make a big deal out of my issues and cry and whine to the bosses, doesn’t mean I don’t have any issues.  EVERYONE HAS FUCKING ISSUES.  And if he talks to the powers-that-be tomorrow, and they give him his fucking hours back, I am going to be so fucking mad.  I may go absolutely bat-shit crazy on them. 

I know that the world is not fair, but this isn’t even funny at all anymore.  It’s the worlds least funny cosmic joke of which I have ever been a part. 

I feel ridiculous.  And sad.  And outraged.  And helpless.  And pathetic. 

The worst part I suppose is that I don’t know what to do about it.  I don’t know what it is that I’m supposed to be doing, and it’s even worse when I think about what I thought my life would be like when I was still in college.  What I thought my life would be like way back before all of my hopes and dreams got crushed and I turned into this hopeless, apathetic lump who refuses to do anything because anytime I actively try to do anything important it gets slapped down right back into my face. 

I am writing this because I have no idea what else to do.  I am sure there is no possible way that this can help anything, except I have this sliver of hope that getting it out into the wild will make me feel better.  I haven’t figured out why I get all the crappy breaks.  I must have used up all my luck in my first twenty years… because these last six have pretty much made me want to cry. 

I apologize for the angst.  I will try again tomorrow.  Maybe I will even attempt upbeat.  But, tonight, all you are going to get is downtrodden and sad. 

Lovely.

If wishes were horses...

...mine would fly me away.