From Emo, To You

i'm getting more than a vibe that some of you assume i quit jobs because they are either too hard or because they take up my personal time. i suppose i can't expect everyone to actually read all the words in my long-winded posts. besides, words like poop, explosions, tuxedo, and chaos tend to stand out quite a bit more than others. and typos stand out even more than anything. but i had thought you would be able to read how badly i've needed a mentally stimulating job-- one that beats me to death, and makes me feel utilized as a human being.

yet there is this silent feeling like some of you have your own betting pool and date picked for when you think i'll be unemployed again. and i know a lot of that is what they tried to teach me in the boy who cried wolf-- you've seen me desert jobs in a fit of insanity too many times before. of course you're waiting for it to happen again.

he's the unhireable man!

i am not going to preach about what an amazing worker i am: i just am and that's a fact.

but i understand why someone who has never met me or worked with me directly might have trouble believing i'm a workaholic.

"i know about you, i've read your blog,"

"well, i still probably know more about me, i wrote it."

in slapstick, by kurt vonnegut, the president of the united states of america is also sometimes called "the king of candlesticks" and you don't really find out why till the end. it's because he helped cure an ill stranger and was given gifts from everyone in the town as a thank you. things like eiffel towers that were also lighters, and stuff. he picked up a candlestick because it was there, and because it wasn't horrible.

from then on, everyone grew to understand the president loved candlesticks.

he didn't necessarily. he was just being polite, really. but from an outside perspective, it did seem like he must love candlesticks for him to pick one out of the hundreds of other items.

it's like that.

even if you've been reading this blog the entire two years its gone on, you've only seen the candlestick of my job history. and you've seen a rather explosive part of it. the majority of the jobs i've had have been ended maturely and so normally that i even worked at one twice.

i know, it's boring.

and i know, i ruined the ending of slapstick.

but do me a favor and don't ruin my hope right now. don't tell me how horrible things will be, or how my thoughts are impossible. because it's helping no one. it kills my energy, changes my aura, and makes me feel like shit. i can't imagine why you'd want me to feel that way, or what use you'd have in telling me how i'll fail before i've even had a chance. but i'm pretty sure it really isn't helping anyone. and if it's helping someone, it's not me-- and that's just kind of rude because this is my blog and i spend a lot of my free time keeping it up for you.

most people quit writing after a week or two.

but, like most of my jobs, i take what i do seriously. sure, i write about poop and, sure, i vomited in my bed once and left it there for a month before doing my laundry, but i also make a point to always have this blog updated for those of you stuck in an office like i have been before. this is for you.

it's also for me. so please don't ruin my mood right now.