Tag: rant

I have this thing where people will, within seconds of knowing me, immediately telling me their life story and the worst things about their lives. It was really bad when I worked retail but now it’s people in my complex. Creepy Neighbor from last night for example, the first thing he said to me was that his sister and his niece had died recently and that he’d moved in with his family because his sister had cancer. I don’t even know if this guy knows my name. This happens all. The. Time. And I used to just feel bad for these people. But I am so tired all the time. And now idk I’m starting to get mad. I’m depressed. I’m tempted to end it all at some point most days. I’m absolutely exhausted and do any of these people care about that? Of course not. They take the fact that I am too tired to speak as an invitation to keep going. Or I’ll try to say I have to go and they interrupt me to keep talking.

I’m too tired for this.

I want you guys to feel like you can talk to me about stuff you’re going through. But I consider you guys, especially my mutuals, my friends. It’s part of the deal and plenty of you reciprocate. There’s no reciprocity with these people. It’s more like a conversational hostage situation.

Oh I’m sorry. Did I come out of my existential crisis a little too far for you? Was my brief lack of despair too distracting for you?

Like I’m literally listening to this particular comedian because he talks about mental illness and his whole schtick is finding funny in a dark place which is what I need right now. You can play the Oppression Olympics all you fucking want but my life is fucked and I don’t need to tell you about it to feel validated. You’ve been here 14 years and have one friend who transferred out because he couldn’t stand working with you. The entire office can’t stand you. It’s not them, it’s you and the only reason I tolerate it is because I’ve dealt with far far worse. So get off your goddamn high horse and leave me the hell alone.

You know what, I’m calling it here, and I’m calling it now.

2017 is worse than 2016. 

2016 was worse for celebrity deaths (thus far-it took at least 4 of my favorite people, probably more) but in terms of general bullshit and shenanigans, I stand by it. 2017 sucks worse than 2016. 

I lost my beloved car in a gnarly wreck I still have not psychologically recovered from, I lost my job, and I’m losing my apartment. So I’m literally losing every single thing I had going for me in life. Sure I still have my dog and two cats, but now I won’t even be able to feed them myself. And yeah, if it comes down to it, my mom will gladly step in and buy them food, but the point is, I can’t even do it myself. I’m about to be 28 and I’m losing every scrap of my independence that I’ve worked so hard to achieve. And I’m supposed to feel bad for my boss feeling bad when he’s the one who decided to lay me off in the first place? 

My 10 year high school reunion was this year. I obviously didn’t go. Partially because I don’y ever want to see most of those people again, but partially because I felt so pathetic because I was a full time AP student with a bright future ahead of me, and I’m a receptionist and still can’t seem to get into grad school. I’ve had to sit there and watch as my fellow students became doctors, Disney animators, scientists, got married, moved to large cities, traveled the world and I’m stuck here doing nothing with my life that I wanted to. 

I kept telling myself though that it’s okay, it’s fine that I haven’t achieved my goals yet, because hey, I’ve got an apartment, I can feed myself and my animals, I’ve got job that pays my bills. Now I have none of that. 

I feel pathetic and worthless and all those things my ex made me feel. After he dumped me, I kept, I’m worth so much more than this, I deserve so much better. And he thought he was so much smarter than everyone else, but he had lost his job and moved in with his parents, and what kind of hot shit does he think he is. The only thing consoling me in the face of his abandonment was that I had a job and an apartment and my independence. That I’d worked hard to get where I was. Except now I’m at rock bottom all over again.  

My greatest regret was never telling him how much I hate him. How angry I am. For listening to the people who told me to just let it go. And now I’m right where he is and he’s gone and I can’t. I have nothing. Only this empty lack of closure and a bunch of cardboard boxes to pack what’s left of my livelihood. 

And people keep telling me it’s going to be okay and I just want to scream at them to shut up. JUST SHUT UP. First of all, you don’t know that. You do not know, you have no possible way of knowing that it’s all going to be okay, that I’ll get a decent job with a great supervisor who DOESN’T micromanage me, who doesn’t make me feel incompetent, who doesn’t treat me like crap, and I’ll get it in the next few weeks, that I won’t have to couch surf for months, that I won’t have to go back to retail, that I will get into grad school this time around, that I won’t commit suicide before all that happens, that I won’t run into my ex in the meantime and have him realize how terrible my life is right now. You. Don’t. Know. And even if you did, even if you could give me an exact date on when Everything Will Finally Not Suck in my life (a time which has literally never happened in the 28 terrible godforsaken years I have been stuck on this miserable piece of shit plane of existence) that doesn’t change the fact that things are NOT okay RIGHT NOW. Things SUCK right now. Things have sucked. Things have always sucked. And now they suck worse than ever. I’m losing everything of value I had, my job, my home, and my independence, all that the same time. Things are not okay, things are terrible. So fucking let me be unhappy. My life is falling apart. I’m ALLOWED to be unhappy. 

Someone, who is NOT my boss, or my boss’s boss, someone who doesn’t even WORK IN THIS OFFICE, came in while I wasn’t here and completely rearranged my desk. As in, took stuff that I use for my job, like empty file folder, and took them away and put them in an empty office, because them being out is “unprofessional.” 

We don’t get customers in here. Nobody is ever going to see them. 

She tried to take my fish away. She moved my printer far on the other side of my desk away from the scanner. She moved my address labels away from the desk surface where I mail things. 

SHE DOESN’T WORK IN THIS OFFICE. 

You know what’s unprofessional? Rearranging someone’s work space without asking and while they aren’t present. Rifling through their work space when you know they’re in the middle of a massive project scanning company files. Some of those files might be sensitive. 

My work space is my work space. This is my desk. And what really bothers me is the implication that I don’t do anything around here of any importance so it doesn’t matter. 

After the near death experience I had coming in this morning, this day is turning out awesome. And my poor mom. She knew I’d be mad and was worried I’d be mad at her. She apparently told them I was going to rip her head off about it, because they’d be gone. And yeah, I’m irritated about this, and leaving my mom to take the fall isn’t cool. So no, I’m not mad at my mom. Of course not, it’s not her fault. 

I just…YOU DON’T WORK IN THIS OFFICE!!!!!!!!!!!!