I’ve been making a lot of these lately.

Or rather, I’ve been making more within a shorter period of time than usual, which leads to less recovery time from general stupidity, which leads to a lot more pain from consequences that could have just been stretched out slowly.

Let me explain.

It seemed like a good idea at the time to go to the rave on a night before a day I had work…but I figured…I’d leave early or something. (how does that never ever happen? I need to stop lying to myself that I, who does not have a car, can leave when I want to leave. Never happens. Never will. Until my car. Which is a story for another day. Anyway…) Which I didn’t.

The second unwise decision was deciding that I didn’t need money at the club, because my bazonkas should do the trick, right? WRONG. I went out with my cousins, who are not in the least interested in my bazonkas, or hydrating said bazonkas, or the body attached. Ok, well, lemme rephrase that. Usually, famrave means famdrinking but sijui ilikuwa mid-month. So I ended up spending money I shouldn’t have spent…sigh. This needs to stop being the story of my life.

Anyhue…because of these 2 unwise decisions, I ended up at work, sleepy out of my MIND, having to put in a 7 hour shift which included sounding coherent for multiple interviews. Hot. DAMN.

Now, small unwise decisions bring my eyes to huuuuge unwise decisions that I feel like I am making every day…and whining about consistently (no, really. Literally, consistently.). The major one at the mo is that I FUCKING HATE MY JOB. Ok, I don’t FUCKING HATE IT, I probably, like, fucking hate it.

Ok, maybe I don’t hate it.
But it is DEFINITELY not something I want to do for the rest of this year.
Or month.
Or week.
Maybe hour. I can probably do this hour (praise Jesus, my shift is about to end)

It is making me question many things about myself (unfortunately, I feel a lot like Lena Dunham in Girls, when she is having a quarter life crisis about not having done anything particularly meaningful in her life except being groped by her boss. I haven’t been groped by my boss. He is cute though, so I would only mind on a principle based – read Wolverine – level), such as:
1. Am I really a genius?
2. If I am, why am I here? Doing these distinctly UNgenius-like activities?
3. Am I such a slave to my rent that I have to keep doing this thing that I hate so very much? (ok, not so very much. It’s just tedious and annoying…not ati hard. Just draining. I sit at computers all day and feel my brain seeping out and leaking all over my damn keyboard.)
4. Am I weak? Can’t I hold down a damn job for the sake of…you know…whatever that thing it is that adults need to do with their money? (I mean rent. I think I mean rent. Also, angst and passive aggression sure make me cuss a lot. I feel like there’s and angry little Irish man in my head. LOL. Heeeey, Seamus.)
5. Am I an adult now? Is this what they do? I DIDN’T SIGN UP FOR THIS.
6. Or am I just being idealistic? (AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA Guess what song just came on? WORK BITCH. Everything is a sign. I am so tired.) Ati you can love your job…ati you don’t have to go through hardship…ati it’s easier when you’re doing something you love. (aaaah, they’re blocking out all the bitches. THAT’S HALF THE FREAKIN TITLE. CAMAAAAAAAAN.)
7. WHAT AM I DOING HERE???
sad face

I need to get lucky. cue Pharrell, either the song Get Lucky, or him suddenly being fascinated with Kenyan pseudo-artists and deciding to fund my life because I am tooooo cooooool

tSN