|has no member title|
I want to punch my previous dentist in the face! With a soldering iron.
I like it maybe 63 percent!
|Great wyrm of Toronto|
I have a University education. I've been published. I have done good work for people. I am highly creative and intelligent. All I need is a job that I want to do, that I can do, and so much of what I've been going through would be so much more bearable.
Because, seriously, being in unemployment for three years really fucking sucks. This is really not where I envisioned myself ending up after everything I've done.
Please Reality. You can do better than this. I *know* you can. So please: stop being a dick, and fucking pay me already.
far past the point of ridiculousness
You can't take the sky from me.
|Weirdy American Tart Thing|
Ranty rant Number Eleventybillion:
So, in discussing why I dislike acknowledging my birthday exists I explained that most of my birthdays had horrible things happen on them, which really didn't stop when I got older and so I just don't pay attention to my birthday anymore. I don't mind if someone knows and says something (the only person I do want to notice is my husband, and the two times he's forgotten it something awful happened) but I don't go out of my way to advertise it - you won't see it on facebook or ravelry.
During my complaining, a dear friend told me that I shouldn't think like this and all that stuff happened in the past, so I should 'just get over it.'
um. How, exactly? Most of the horrible stuff happened when I was an impressionable youngster and whether it was my fault or not, that's always how it seemed to me! One skating party, mum had to pay for me because she assumed the birthday child was free - somehow that was my fault or at least that's how mum saw it and complained about it. One year someone ate a bite out of my birthday cake before we cut it. Wasn't me, but I got blamed. Another year my cousin stole the money out of the cards, it was found in his sock, but according to his mother he didn't do it. It was my fault because I was getting all the attention. In elementary school (first grade, I think?) the very popular, very pretty girl pitched a wobbler because she had to SHARE her birthday with me. And she didn't want to because she said I was ugly and I would ruin everything. (I also remember that I never got Valentines at school, although everyone else did. which isn't actually part of the birthday rant, but it does give you a clue that I was not welcome) Another birthday, high school this time, I went to the cafeteria to just get a soda, stopped at the table to chat with the few friends I did have, another girl halfway up the table loudly said, 'She can't sit here, no one likes her, I don't want her sitting anywhere near me!'
OK, fine. None of this shit was actually my fault, but I'm in dire need of counseling and I've never had much self esteem and those issues were ingrained into my childhood.
So, yeah, I'm a whingeing brat. But... I should just get over it.
Minister of Kraftwerk in the Realm of U & P, Order of the Pineapple with frond for advancement in Nap studies.
The brain: not always amenable to logic. ~Hive
|Powered by Social Strata||Page 1 ... 13 14 15 16|