The Peanut Chronicles

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

Ranting

“Success is my only mother fucking option failure’s not. Here I go, this is my shot feet fail me not this may be the only opportunity I got”

Sitting in the subway station, awaiting the train to take me to yet ANOTHER interview in Metropolis. I realize I sound like I am whining about these interviews and jobs. In reality, I am. I will fully admit to it. I have decided that my time and education is worth more then 15 bucks an hour. Hello?! Master’s degree! Journal publications! Book! Speaker! I am sooo worth more then 15 bucks an hour.

Looking back on it, taking the stipend was a mistake. At the time it was a great idea. We had the Nut coming. We could use the money at the time. But now that the Bear has bought the company and is a partner and we have more then enough. How much? We are going to buy a house in Scarlet Wood and rent it out until we can move there. WE HATE METROPOLIS!!!

Now finding the job is the trick. And I don’t really know if that it will even be possible. At least now I have the registration as a clinical worker in. That opens up some city jobs in Oakville, Metropolis, and maybe even in Kerbeley, which is another small town with need of help.

If I seem too picky I think of it this way: Am I willing to be walked over again? Let’s face it; I have let a lot of people walk all over me without standing up for myself. I let Bear’s family do it until I snapped. I let Bear do it too. My bro as well, friends who are no longer my friends, a few friends right now (remedying that), work places…

I am worth more then 15 bucks an hour. Nut is worth more then 15 bucks an hour. Bear? Bear can fend for himself on his own.

OK… I need to forget about the job for a while and talk about something else. Last night I got to go and be an adult. Me, Bear, Admiral, MY, and Sarge went out to dinner. Went to Zeke’s in Oakville.

Best. Pizza. Ever.

It was fun talking to people who don’t giggle and act coy when you ask, “Did someone poopy?” In fact, I think that if I asked that to one of the guys that I was hanging out with yesterday, they would have just laughed at me or looked at me like I was insane or something along those lines.

Wait, I am back to the job rant. Another thing, I am sick of back stabbing people asking people about my job placement and position for employment under the guise that they are just curious about my well being. If I wanted them to know about my job placement and search, they would know. If you don’t know, if you are not my friend, don’t bother asking. As with everything in my life, it’s a need to know basis. I am an extremely private person. In other words, my life is not fodder for gossip. (KNOCK THAT SHIT OFF.)

In fact, as most people have learned, if you ask me a question, you better sure as hell make sure you are gonna ask the question that you wanted answered. Bear has learned this quite well now. He knows the look that I give him when I answer the question he’s asked that I know what answer he is looking for and he has asked the wrong questions.

Ok, I am just ranting now. Maybe it’s because I am super annoyed with the fact that things aren’t going to plan in all sorts of aspects of my life. And I hate not working. It’s obvious that I am currently a kept woman. I HATE THAT FEELING. I hate the fact that I have no freedom. I hate the fact that I am trapped here in a good awful city that I hate, can’t find a job that provides for my son, here in a house I dislike… I guess I am just not happy right now with this situation.

I have found, however, that right now I need to stop trying to make everyone else happy. I need to start making myself feel better then I do. In other words, for a while, other then Nut, I am going to put my well being above anyone else’s. Because, in the end, if I am not sane, who will take care of Nut? Bear?! Ha! Don’t make me laugh. Bear thinks he’s fucking father of the year because he takes Nut on his day off. That is only one day a week. And he feels that he is father of the year because he gets up with Nut for his midnight feeding.

Hmm… you feed the baby once, and burp him once, and then the baby is asleep again within a half hour and then you can crawl back into bed, pushing me all the way to the side so you can hog the bed, and you feel that you are father of the year? Two words for you buddy:

Fuck.You.

This is why I need a boyfriend. Among other reasons.

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