Good News/Bad News

I have some good news and some bad news. The good news is that I stopped in Goodwill yesterday to pick up my check and I looked at the schedule for next week, and I'm not on it. Today is officially my last day at Goodwill!
The bad news is that, when I stopped in to get my check, I stuck the check in my back pocket and a little while later when I tried to take it out it was gone. We had already left Goodwill, gone to a grocery store and were pulling out of the parking lot when I discovered it was missing. So, naturally we went back to the parking lot we had just left and walked every inch of it. Then we went back into the store. Then we went back to Goodwill, where the manager helped me look for it, even though they were completely bombarded with customers. No luck. The manager said that she would call me if they found it. So I spend the rest of the day being pissed/stressed about it and wondering what I am going to do if I can't find it. Then I get a call from Goodwill. When I saw their number on my phone I was just so incredibly relieved! Then the manager tells me that some woman found my check in the Shop N Save parking lot and that she left her contact information so I could call her and meet her somewhere to pick it up. We were out of that parking lot for literally two minutes before I noticed that the check was gone! If she had just not picked it up, I could have gone back and gotten it and everything would have been fine. Now I have to call some random person and make plans with her just so I can get my fucking paycheck! And I have to pretend that I am grateful to her for picking it up. I know that I should be grateful to her for picking it up, but I'm not. Now I have to go through this awkward social interaction with her to get my check instead of just reaching down and picking it up out of a parking lot. I am a shitty human being.

I Totally Forgot!

I just realized that I completely forgot to write my annual, angry, vengeful, Thanksgiving post. Many of you may not know this, but I have had multiple different blogs over the years; all of which have ultimately been left by the wayside. Wherever I happen to be writing though, I have always managed to write a post condemning Thanksgiving, every year. Somehow, this year, I just forgot to do it. I didn't do anything for Thanksgiving this year and neither did either of my parents. So it really just seemed like any other day. I also didn't spend much time online yesterday to see all of the Thanksgiving Facebook posts. Then today I woke up and thought "Shit! Yesterday was Thanksgiving and I didn't even take the time to bitch about it!" So basically, you guys got off easy this year. Don't expect it to happen again.

Fuck Thanksgiving and everything that it pretends to stand for, but doesn't really! 

It's Funny Because No One Died

So, a few days ago, I almost set the cat on fire. Yeah. That could have ended very VERY badly.

Here's what happened; I have this candle that my mom gave me. It's some kind of aroma therapy thing that's supposed to make me happier or something. I don't know that it actually works, but it does make the house smell better which I suppose makes me a bit happier in and of itself.

Anyway, instead of blowing the thing out, like a normal person, I like to pinch it out with my fingers. Well, the other night, I put the flame out and a piece of what I thought was ash stuck to my finger and I flicked it off without even thinking about it. I didn't see where it landed and I didn't really think it mattered so I just started to get ready to go to bed. Then I looked down and noticed that Impala was laying on the floor right under the candle. Then I noticed a tiny glowing, red dot on his fur. I thought to myself  "What the fuck is....OH SHIT! OH SHIT! OH SHIT!" He didn't even seem to notice that he was slowly catching on fire. I did my best to talk very calmly to him and carefully reached down and picked the small ember out of his fur without him ever figuring out what was going on. This was an extremely lucky thing because, if he had figured out what was going on, he would have no doubt gone tearing through the house setting everything around him ablaze and I NEVER would have caught him. It would have been a complete and utter disaster that would have most likely ended in tragedy for him and crippling guilt for me. Since no one got hurt, it's just kind of funny.

I imagine he would have looked something like this, minus the swim fins. 

Conflicting Emotions

Do you ever find yourself hopelessly torn between hoping that something does happen and hoping that it doesn't? I was supposed to be at work right now, but I called off because it snowed and I just couldn't see risking my life and, more importantly, my mom's car (yes, I actually was more concerned about the prospect of fucking up my mom's car than I was of dying) for a job that I am only going to have for a few more days. Anyway, everybody knew there was supposed to be this huge storm coming. I hate snow, hate it with a passion. Yet, when I heard about the storm I was excited because it would mean that I had a good excuse not to go to work. Plus, for the first time in months they had actually scheduled someone to work with me, so if I didn't show up they would still have a cashier. I ended up having this weird internal argument between the part of my mind that wanted the storm to happen and the part that didn't. It went something like this;
"Yay! There's a big snow storm coming!"
"But we hate snow!"
"Yeah, but if it snows we don't have to go to work!"
"But we should go to work because we are quitting and we need the extra money."
"Oh bullshit, we don't need the money that bad. Plus we hate that job."
"We do need the money that bad, and the snow will be just as horrible as going to work."
"Nothing is as horrible as going to work."

And that's how the part of my mind that wanted it to snow won the argument. 

 

My New Favorite Book? Perhaps.

I just finished reading the Hyperbole and a Half book (thank you Rachel!) and it was just so fucking perfect. I highly recommend that everyone read it. If you don't want to invest in the book, at least read the blog. Allie Brosh manages to take all of the terrible things in life and make them hilarious. She is also brave enough to say all of those things that we all think and then hate ourselves for thinking. The sections on Depression and the ones on Identity are incredibly insightful, while still maintaining the irreverent, sarcastic, amazing humor that Hyperbole and a Half is so very good at. Basically, what I'm saying here is "Read it!"

Seeing the Patterns

I have a compulsive need to find patterns in things; to find some sort of meaning in the chaos. This sort of ties into my other post about empathy and trying to understand people's behavior, but it goes further than that. I look for patterns in everything, not just people's behaviors.

Now that the CD player in my car is broken and I have to listen to the radio (grrrrrr), I sometimes notice that two or three consecutive songs will have common themes or very similar lines, and I wonder what that means. Then I realize that it's just a fucking radio and it doesn't mean anything. But I can't shake the feeling that I'm supposed to get something from it. I think I have mentioned before how I tend to have the same ideas, or images pop up in my life over and over again. I'm sure it's just that, once I've noticed it once, I'm more likely to notice it again. But it doesn't feel like that. It feels like it should mean something.

That's one reason I get so invested in different TV shows. The patterns (usually) actually do mean something. I get such a thrill from searching for the meaning in mundane events and trying to predict what they are going to bring about. Often times though, I end up reading into things even more than the writers intended. Then I get disappointed when no one acknowledges the fact that three seasons ago someone said something that relates to that thing that other person mentioned this season. Battlestar Galactica has been both perfect and terrible for this purpose because they make it seem like everything is significant but never actually explain why. The whole time we've been watching it I have been analyzing everything and predicting what those things are going to mean. We are now into season four and I have still received absolutely no confirmation whatsoever.

You have no idea how much time I have spent thinking about why they used All Along the Watchtower. I have read over the lyrics about a hundred times and come up with some sort of relevance for every one of them. I would be willing to bet that it doesn't mean even half of what I think it does. 

Happy Anniversary!

I almost had to write a post about the 50th anniversary of Doctor Who, didn't I? I mean how could I not? How often does one get to experience an event like this in a society where everything is designed to become obsolete after a short amount of time? I watched The Day of the Doctor during the global simulcast and it was such a strange and wonderful  feeling to know that at that very instant there were millions of people all over the world watching, and feeling, the same thing I was.

Anyway, I am going to attempt to pay homage to the show and the episode while avoiding spoilers as much as possible, for anyone who didn't get a chance to see it. I have found that the writers of the show always come up with new and exciting ways to confuse the fuck out of their audience while making the experience so much fun that the audience doesn't mind being confused. This episode was no exception. It was a great episode and just as fun and crazy as always.  I was so happy to see Ten again! I had almost forgotten how much I loved him. Almost. I thoroughly enjoyed the interaction between the three doctors in the episode as well as all of the references to all of the past doctors. I think the John Hurt character showed us a new side to the doctor that we had never seen before, and I loved his complete bewilderment at seeing his future selves. Overall, it was an excellent episode and a fantastic way to celebrate 50 years of other excellent episodes. I can't wait to see what sort of changes we will witness in the Doctor's personality in the future now that he has a bit less reason for self-loathing (see there was almost a spoiler there, but I reined myself in).

Also, I absolutely loved Billie Piper's wild, post-apocalyptic look! 

New Plan

I have decided that, now that I will soon be without a job, there are a few things that I seriously need to focus on.
1- Find a way to make money.
2- Figure out what the fuck I actually want to do with my life.
3- Find a way to release some of my creative energy before is goes all rancid and turns into destructive energy (as it is wont to do).
4- Do some of the things that I have been wanting to do for years, but haven't done because I didn't feel like I had the time.
5- Do things that I can be proud of.
So here's my new idea. I'm going to make metal jewelry. Like actually melt down the metal and mold it into something new. It's something I've always wanted to do, and I've always admired people who did it.So I'm going to give it a try.

Plus it will make me feel all badass, like I'm making armor for knights or something. 

Empathy

It seems like there are those in this world who are capable of understanding other people's thought processes, and those who are not. I can't quite figure out if this is an inborn ability in some, a learned ability, or something that everyone can do but some choose not to. It just seems like some people's first instinct is to just write someone off as "crazy" or "stupid" or "wrong" or "an asshole" whenever they do something the other person doesn't understand. When I am in this situation, I automatically find myself trying to understand the person's thought process. Even if I don't agree with what someone does, I find that I can usually at least make sense of it. I feel compelled to know why people are the way they are, and what leads them to do the things they do. Do other people actually not have the ability to do this? or do they just not care to? Perhaps it's ironic that I have to ask that question?

My dad and I watched this episode of Battlestar Gallactica the other night, and he kept talking about how crazy they were for doing this. I was like "No, it's...." and went into this long detailed explanation about what each of them were thinking and feeling that led them to this point. Then he was like "Yeah, like I said, they're psychos." (Facepalm)

It Could Be Hellfire

In case anyone was wondering I am not, in fact, dead. There hasn't been a post for the past couple of days because our internet has been out. I believe this is because The Powers that Be knew that my various online activities were the only things keeping me sane so, naturally, they said "Nope. You can't do that anymore." It does seem to be working again now; which is good because the first day it was out I fucked my hand all up, and the second day I broke the glass in cabinet in the kitchen. I also put in my notice at work. This was probably a terrible idea, because I don't know how I'm going to survive. However, it does give me something to look forward to; a light at the end of the tunnel if you will. Now all I have to do is make it through another two weeks without snapping completely and everything will be.....well.........probably just as bad as it is now except with even less money.

Dean "....it's like there's a light at the end of the tunnel."

Sam "It's hellfire, Dean" 

Procrastination, Never a Good Idea

Do you ever put off the most mundane shit for so long that it becomes this incredibly daunting task, that you can't imagine yourself ever completing? Because I sure as hell do. I haven't checked my email in a couple of weeks, which I knew was a big mistake, and yesterday I tried to check it and found 827 unread emails in my inbox. I ask you, how the fuck am I ever supposed to sort through that many emails? Also, our kitchen has been entirely overrun by glass jars. They have the residue from various types of nut butters in them, and they have accumulated so much over the last few (weeks?, months? I don't ever remember anymore) that the idea of washing them all just seems unreasonable.

Eventually, I suppose I will get to this point. 

Try

I apologize in advance for this post. It is super long, and ranty, and depressing as all fuck. It's just that my psyche is crumbling, you see. So today I'm just throwing my insanity at my keyboard and seeing what sticks.

 You know what it is that bothers me the most about my life? That I try so fucking hard. I genuinely believe that I try harder, in nearly every aspect of my life, than anyone I know. Yet I get damn near nothing in return.

As I discussed in my post from a couple of days ago, I am nice to everyone pretty much all the time. I'm nice to people who obviously don't deserve it, and to people who aren't nice to me. I'm fairly certain I'm going to give myself a brain tumor from the sheer effort it takes to be nice to people who do nothing but treat me like shit. You would think that this would cause me to have more friends or, at the very least, better relationships with my acquaintances; but you would be wrong. What it actually does is cause people to walk all over me all the time, that's it.

I saw this quote, on Pinterest, the other day from Gwyneth Paltrow. She was talking about how her amazing body is not due to good genes or luck, it's due to the fact that she works her ass off for an hour and a half five days a week. Then I realized that I work out for an hour and a half seven days a week. I put more effort into my body than Gwyneth fucking Paltrow! Everyone seems to agree that she looks pretty great, yet I'm stronger, healthier, and have better muscle tone than anyone I know and what do I get? That I'm "scrawny." Awesome.

I spend an absurd amount of money on animal food. It costs me just over a hundred dollars for a forty pound bag of dog food, because I buy the healthiest kind I can find. I also give the dogs fruits and vegetables every day (which they love, by the way. I don't force them to eat vegetables; they follow me around and bark at me if I don't give them vegetables.) I also let them climb on the furniture, sleep in my bed, and sit on my lap, which many people don't do. You would think that the fact that I am willing to be poor all the time and have every single thing I own smelling like dog, just so that they can be healthy and happy, would make them like me pretty well wouldn't you? Nope! Chuck fucking bit me last night! Not like we were playing and he got a little too rough. Not like he sort of nipped me. No. Like I have four puncture wounds on the back on my hand now.

I think the one that gets to me the most though, is how hard I have to try to just not appear as if I'm on the edge of a breakdown. People have no idea how many conversations I have with them after which I don't even remember what I said because, while I managed to respond appropriately and even smile or laugh in the right places, every drop of my attention was on not collapse into a quivering heap on the floor.

There's really nothing I can do about it though. I know that, if I were to stop trying so hard, I would only feel worse about myself. My life would still suck just as much, except then I would feel like it was all my own fault because I wasn't trying hard enough.

"....but you'll try, because that's what you do. You try."

Progress (or lack thereof)

Remember this post where I talked about all the things I planned to do this year? Well, this blog is rapidly approaching it's one year anniversary and I have accomplished basically nothing on that list. Also, remember this post where I talked about all the things I want to do in my life? I have not accomplished any of those either. When I realized how little my life has progressed over the last year, it really bothered me. I thought that I would, at least, be a tiny bit closer to where I want to be in my life after a year. Instead I feel like I have not moved at all or, worse yet, that I may have actually moved backward.

I was trying to come up with an image for this post, and I thought of the freeze ray from Buffy (you know, like I've been frozen in place for the last year?). Then I thought "Wow, that's really dumb." but then I was like "Yeah, but I don't have time to come up with anything better." So, sorry guys you're stuck with the stupid freeze ray. 

Chronic Politeness

I truly believe that the best way to be happy with yourself is to make a point to cultivate characteristics that you respect in others, and to try to overcome the ones you don't respect. I have been making a conscious effort to do this for some time now, and I believe that it has made a huge difference in my self-esteem. At this point, there are very few things that I am ashamed of. There is still one thing though that I just can't seem to get past. I just cannot seem to get over this whole doormat mentality that I have. All the people I respect most tend to be those who don't take shit from anybody; people who stand up for themselves, their beliefs and other beings. I seem to have what you might call "chronic politeness" I am compelled to be polite to people, even when they are being complete dicks to me, and I HATE that about myself.

Last night this woman came into Goodwill and was looking at the jewelry counter. I was standing there waiting to see if she would want me to get anything out for her. She asks to see my tattoo (the Vegan one) and when I show it to her she says, and I quote "Oh that's terrible." and shakes her head slowly. I honestly laughed, I was so taken aback. I mean, I have had people ask to see my tattoo and then not know what to say when they see what it is, but never has anyone expressed such blunt disapproval. Then she says "I have some friends who are vegans (I would just like to say that she may well know some vegans but, considering her attitude toward them, I would be willing to bet that they don't think of her as a friend.). You can usually tell who's a vegan because they're always scrawny like you." I really, REALLY wanted to punch her in the face. I seriously considered telling her that I think her concept of a healthy weight is a bit skewed (she was at least 30 pounds overweight), and/or dropping to the floor and doing 20 or 30 push-ups to show her how fucking "scrawny" I am. Instead, I just rang up her stuff and told her to have a nice night. I then proceeded to berate myself for it for the rest the night and again today.

I'm fairly certain Aeryn would kick the living shit out of anyone who had the nerve to call her scrawny, and I should have done the same. 

You Can Tell They Really Trust Us

Last night, I got stuck at work until 10:00. The store closes at 9:00, but we are now required to stay until 9:30. Yesterday was kind of slow so I was REALLY ready to leave by the end of the night. And, because it was slow, I actually managed to get all of my work done on time (which rarely happens). Would you like to know why I ended up having to stay for half an hour after I was supposed to leave? Because the safe in the office wouldn't shut. That's right, I stood around for half an hour staring at the wall because the manager couldn't get the safe closed. She kept typing in the password and it kept going "BEEP BEEEP BEEEEEEEEP" and then not closing. Now you would think that the manager could stay and handle this by herself right? Wrong! The corporate office made a rule that no one is ever allowed to be in the store by him or her self. Apparently they think the temptation to steal other people's old clothes would just be too great for anyone to resist, given the opportunity. I swear to god this place is driving me fucking crazy. Everyday, I have to restrain myself from pulling a Charlie.

I Can Hear Your Pain

Last night was the new episode of Supernatural and, for the first time all season, I actually got to watch it when it came on! I am going to try to talk about it without giving anything away, for anyone who hasn't seen it yet.

Cas now works at a gas station, I feel safe saying that because we learn that in the first five minutes of the episode. Anyway, I honestly find these episodes that focus on Cas trying to figure out how to be human almost as depressing as the episodes where everyone dies. Watching him do all of these mundane human things, the same things that I've always hated doing, and trying to find meaning in it all is just so fucking sad! Not to mention the fact that watching his social interactions is like looking in a goddamn mirror. And I'm not even going to talk about his attempts at romance, I'm just not. It's all just way too familiar. 

His smock even kind of looks like mine; ugly, shapeless, polyester monstrosities! 

*The title is a quote from the episode, by the way. Saying anything more about it would be spoilers. 

Snow = Evil

So it snowed last night. That was awesome (for anyone who might not be aware, I hate snow with a fiery  passion). Aside from the fact that it is cold and generally annoying it also knocked out our internet. Which is why this post is late. It also really makes me question continuing to work at Goodwill (you know, more than I already was). Driving forty minutes each way for minimum wage is bad enough, but driving forty minutes each way for minimum wage IN THE SNOW? Now that's just a bit too much to ask, don't you think? Plus, I'm still driving my mom's car. So if I happened to wreck, not only would I feel like shit, but we would both be without a car.

Very Important (to me, probably not to you) Poll!

I need everyone's help! A friend of mine on facebook just invited me to a poetry competition. I feel like this is something I have to do, despite the terror it evokes in me to think of standing up in front of a bunch of strangers and sharing my, at times, overly personal poetry. Here's what I need from all of you. Will anyone who reads this PLEASE PLEASE read through my poems and tell me which one you think I should do?
Ripped Apart
Futility
Shape Shifter
Too Close
Adulthood
Connected
Adventure

I have a feeling I will look much more like this version of Spike than the one I normally use for my poetry posts. 

It's My Own Fault

Yesterday, I was talking to someone at work about college. We were talking about how we had both gone to college multiple times and neither of us had ever actually finished our degrees. She studied psychology too, by the way. Anyway, she was saying how, the first time she started school, she ended up getting married and moving away. Then the second time, she got pregnant. And the third time, she got pregnant again. Those seem like pretty legitimate excuses for not finishing school. I'm just sitting there thinking "Yeah, I just kept getting bored."

So, I was looking for an image from any of the huge number of times either of the Winchesters have talked about how everything in the world is their fault. Instead I found this, and thought to myself "What in the fuck?!" and also "HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" So here you go. 

There's a Smell?

Goodwill shares a parking lot with several restaurants. It seems that one of these restaurants, though I couldn't tell you which one, contains a potent grease smell capable of permeating the clothing and hair of anyone who sets foot inside. I know this because, nearly every day, we get multiple people in the store who all exude the exact same greasy food smell. For a while, I was completely perplexed by this. I could not figure out why so many people who shop at Goodwill smelled like grease. Then I realized that it must be one of the restaurants. I certainly hope that's the case anyway; if there really is some strange correlation between shopping at Goodwill and smelling like greasy food, I would find that rather unnerving. Anyway, I assume these people are unaware that they are walking around with a thick cloud of fatty food odor around them and I often wonder how they would feel if they were aware of it.

I imagine it's rather like that burger smell that Buffy was so disturbed by. 

Dissatisfaction

I know I have spoken to people about this multiple times, but I don't think I have actually written a blog about it. I can't remember for sure though so, if I have, sorry.

Anyway, this may sound stupid but I truly believe that the source of 99% of the dissatisfaction our society has, with life in general, is too many choices. We have all been told, from the time we were children, that we can do whatever we want with our lives. This sounds great, in theory. However, when you feel like you can do anything it creates this pressure to do the right thing, the best thing, to make the right choice. We feel like, anytime we're not completely happy with our lives, it must be because we made the wrong decision somewhere. Furthermore, some of us (like myself) become completely paralyzed by the pressure to make the right life choices and end up stuck doing something we know we don't want to do because we're afraid to commit to a decision. "But what if I do this, and it turns out that I should have done that?" I truly believe that human beings were better off when we didn't have so many options. Back when every decision we made was life or death, it was easy to know which decision to make. Plus, it gave our lives purpose. If we make the right decisions, we survive. That was the definition of success. Now we have to define success in these strange, obscure ways that we don't even understand half the time. "If I have a nice car, I'm successful." "If I get promoted, I'm successful." "If I can afford a house, I'm successful." "If I make more money than that other guy, I'm successful." or, in my case, "If I feel fulfillment, I'm successful." I think we should all just go back to growing our own food and forget about all this "You can be anything you want" bullshit.

The people in Dollhouse had the right idea. The world, as we know it, came to an end. So they just started their own little self-sufficient community where they grew their own food and took care of each other. I think they all seemed happier that way too. 

Badass Girls

I have been thinking lately about shows with really tough female characters, and I have come to the conclusion that someone needs to inform the makers of these shows that taking a cute girl and making her hit things does not automatically make her a badass. You have to actually teach her how to fight, at least a little, otherwise she just looks like a little girl pretending to fight. I'm not saying all shows do this, but a lot of them do, and it bugs the shit out of me. Can we hire some actresses who are actually tough, instead of just hiring pretty ones and having them pretend to be tough? I think young Mary Winchester has to be one of the worst ones ever. Do you remember the fight scene between her and Dean? She looked fucking ridiculous.

At least S.H.I.E.L.D. acknowledged the fact that Skye sucks at fighting. 

Supernatural+Animal Rights=the Very Best Thing Ever!

I knew there was a reason I put off writing my blog today. I just finished watching the Supernatural episode form last night and it was quite possibly my favorite episode ever! I am going to try not to ruin it for anyone, but there was a definite animal rights theme. At the beginning, I was pissed because I thought for sure it was going to be a whole episode making fun of, and possibly demonizing (no pun intended), animal rights activists. By the end though, there was a clear pro-animal message. The vegans were the good guys, even if they were "hippy freaks". Dogs should never be left in cars. The pound is a horrible depressing place. Even the smallest animals have impressive skills. Taxidermy is super fucking creepy. They even, at least to me, sort of highlighted the inherent insanity of eating animals. It was so great! Also, I think Dean definitely likes dogs now, yay!

Well This Should Be Interesting

First of all, I wanted to let everyone know that Zeke seems to be doing better. I don't think he's out of the woods yet but, as of last night, he was acting a bit more like himself.

Today they are supposed to be installing a new computer system at work. When I first heard about this I was pretty glad, because the ones we have now kind of suck. Then I found out that the new system is going to be infinitely more complicated and cause the cashiers to have to do twice as much work as we used to. Also, apparently the store manager was told that we should "Expect to be here until ten for the first couple weeks." Fucking awesome.

I get the distinct impression that our new computers are going to make about as much sense as the Men of Letters' computer. 

Zekey

My sister's cat Zeke has been very sick. He has developed sever anemia for some unknown reason and has been in and out of the emergency vet for the last couple of days. They put him on all kinds of medications and, last night, they gave him a blood transfusion. He is one of the sweetest cats I've ever know and it's complete bullshit that he has had to go through so much hell. Anyway, I just wanted to put it out there that I, and everyone else who knows him, love him and hope they figure out what the fuck is going on and get him through this, soon.

The Real Me

Well everyone, I did it. I cut my hair off. For a few minutes I kind of thought "Oh my god! What have I done?" and then "Holy shit! Look how small my head is!" but, after a while, I started to feel like ME again. I look more like a guy, but I feel more like myself. You wouldn't think it would be possible for someone to just not be cut out for having hair, but apparently I'm not. Whatever, girl hair is overrated anyway.

"You wanna meet the real me now?"

Also, we finally got my punching bag filled up yesterday. So far I am really enjoying it.

Fuck This Shit!

I am just so fucking fed up with everything right now. It's taking every ounce of my self-control to not quit my job and run away to a place where no one can find me and make me do things that I hate. I think the worst part about doing things that I hate is having to pretend that I don't hate them. If I ever dare to walk into work and not act like I'm thrilled as all fuck to be there, everyone stares at me like I've grown a second head or something. Alas, I can't quit my job because I need the money, and I can't run away because no one would feed my animals. So instead I'm just going to cut my hair off, because if I'm going to be miserable, I'm at least going to be miserable without a giant fuzz ball stuck to my head shedding on me all day.

I Am an Actual Conscious, Semi-Functioning Human Being

You all know how much I hate dealing with the majority of the human race, right? I just have a hard time putting up with all of the irritating shit that people do. I have recently found though, that the thing that I hate most is being patronized. I absolutely cannot stand being treated like I'm stupid, and I seem to be getting a lot of that lately, and it's really pissing me off! I don't know why everyone has suddenly decided that I must be a fucking moron, but I'm really not; I swear. It seems like every person I deal with lately keeps talking down to me and giving me advice that I would have to be brain dead, or from another planet, to not have thought of myself.