I wrote this a year ago...Ha Ha...

The reason that I hate working here is not that I necessarily hate the people; it has more to do with the fact that I really hate working in any office and I do not want to continue to work this way.

My dream is to be able to work in a creative field with creative people that are not only book smart but also have something of a visionary quality that allows them to see beyond the black and white of life. I need to be around people that see the colors of the world and create based on that vision.

If I had my own way, I would choose to work in a place that offered me diversity and would allow me to have a chance to speak to different kinds of people. The reasons I want to become a stylist is first, I love hair and I love how it changes the way a person looks, feels and presents themselves, I also love people and helping them achieve all they feel they need to in order to become who they ultimately want to become. Although hair seems so superficial, it is a big part of who we are and how we interact with others. I could be a lawyer or a doctor if I had those goals but I don’t. I want to do hair. I really feel that is what is going to make me happy in the long run.

Sometimes I am on the train and I see a girl with purple hair and a leopard print bag and I think to myself, I want to be that girl! I want to be me all of the time and dress funky, go to parties and enjoy myself. I want to schedule all my appointments for early afternoon and evening so I can get home and spend time with my significant other. I want to spend my day laughing in a salon and talking. I want to help a woman break out of her cocoon and become the butterfly she always knew was there.

But I am not, I am here and I hate this place and I hate myself for relegating myself to this place. I wish upon all wishes that I could break out and go to someplace else. I promise myself that I am going to do it all of the time but I am such a coward I never do. I know that once I get the balls to do this I will be ok and moving in the right direction. Till then, I am going to be a great big loser.

Alright here I am again, looking at the clock waiting for the moment when I can just leave and go home since I have begun typing this, six minutes have passed, two minutes was spent getting JIG a bottle of water and the other four was spent playing SPIDER, a form of solitaire that I have become addicted to. Of the 200 games I have played I lost about 3 and those were games that I gave up on because I am sick of doing the same thing. I don’t want to play the game but I cannot stop playing the game because it has entranced me. I still have 20 minutes to go and there is not way that I am going to make it out of here with my mind right because right now I am listening to a conversation between JIG and GAF and some title closer and a borrower about millions and thousands of dollars. There is no way that this is right. How can you get so much and do so little during your lifetime. I don’t even know why I come to work, there is really nothing that they need me for here, I am just taking up space and using valuable resources. I need a nap and I wish that there was a way that I could sleep and that I could get some rest before I made my way to Brooklyn. There isn’t and so I have to drag my cooch to the train and then get to Brooklyn and walk from the station and then up the millions of stairs before I can get to my house.

Well, it’s me the big loser from Loserville. I am just so annoyed at myself because I realize that somewhere there is a rewarding career for me to partake in and that for some unexplained reason, I don’t. I want to be happy and creative and have a nice life, I just must love the pain of this life that I have right now. This week I have been working here, miserable and just hating life. I want a better life, I want to be happy, I miss being happy. As of late I have been a miserable crab and that makes me worthless to be around. I asked about my raise today. Not a firm ask, more of a punk, “Uh, have you spoken to the Accountant about my raise?” - ask that was really useless, because in response I got a, I’m a big fat liar response, “Yeah, I have to call her, I will do that today.” LIKE I DON’T KNOW WHEN HE IS LYING… What the hell does he think that I just sit around with my finger in my ass and don’t realize that the world is going on around me???? All of the spirit and love that I had for this job and career has been stomped out of me by this man. I HATE this job now. I never believed that I could feel this way, but I do. I HATE THIS JOB. Sometimes, I would rather jump in front of a moving train than to come to work. That is really sad. I wish for a broken leg so I can avoid coming here. The crazy thing is that it’s not the work. I don’t mind the work, I actually miss the work. Captain Avoidance tries to do as little as possible and so I don’t do anything of substance. I don’t even get to finish most of the projects that I start because he would rather have them languish than get the work done. It really is that lack of appreciation, the annoying side bits that I have to do, the listening to the same crap over and over and over again. It’s maddening. There have been times that I look at his face and want to start screaming at the top of my lungs, SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! I don’t care what you think or what you have to say, it all means nothing to me. But I don’t. That is probably why I am so depressed.

I actually gave this to Vanessa to read, how sad that is. I am willing to admit to another person how crappy I feel here, yet and still I have not scraped my ass off of this chair to ask for my raise.

Well I got my raise. As many times in my life before, I got it too late and so I am so far behind that I am gasping fro breath to try and make a difference in my finances. Somehow I think that if I can just keep rolling with the punches, I can get by, but that is not always the case and I have this innate fear that there will be a date when playing fast and loose if you could call it that will bite me in my ass. I know that not everyone can afford the lives they live but I was kind of hoping that I could get by.