(Personal rant, feel free to gloss over.)
Someone once asked me if maybe I was subconsciously choosing misery because it’s easier to deal with when you’ve accepted that you’ll never be happy. The answer to that question is no, it doesn’t get any easier when you accept that.
A few months ago it seemed like maybe things were going to take a turn for the better. Well, again, “tell me lies and I’ll come running” right? This time will be different right? I’ll finally get something on my side right? I’ll finally be able to transcend my day job and make a name for myself out of corporate America right? I should have fucking known better, but like an idiot I fell for this shit again.
So a couple of big projects that I mentioned a few months ago (namely my full-on meggings modeling shoot and the musical I was going to write with a friend)? Yeah, those will not be coming to fruition unfortunately. Why? The friend I was supposed to work on these things with is moving far away. What seemed like something promising to maybe get me away from corporate America and into something more artistic and a truer expression of my inner self has just come to a screeching hault.
Why the fuck do I even get my hopes up anymore? When am I going to wise up and accept that I was just destined to be a corporate slave until lunch on the day of my funeral? I don’t know, but I’m sick of it.
I hate my job. I hate my coworkers. I hate my bosses. The only escape I ever get from the routine is the watering hole and the cigar lounge, but even then on certain days the latter is a no-go (depending on the crowd, I have a lot of enemies over there). The rest of the time? I’m just a mindless drone doing boring, repetitive and painful tasks while either trapped in an office or at home.
Unfortunately my parents are only 55 and 52. This means they both have about 25-30 years left, assuming a normal life expectancy. If this corporate bullshit is going to be my life from now on, I don’t see any reason I should continue to live after they’re gone. Truth be told that’s the big driving reason behind me not ending my life at this point – namely the pain it would cause them. When they’re gone? Well seeing as how I have no significant other or children, I would be existing simply for myself. I don’t really get along with either of my siblings so I doubt they’d even care that much.
I don’t know. I’m just sick and tired of nothing ever working out for me. I’ll be 32 in a couple of weeks and what real accomplishments do I have to my name? Oh that’s right, NOTHING!!!! Unless, of course, you consider working for a cheap-ass corporate crane company (seriously, I’m way underpaid for what I do and the benefits package is all but complete shit) an accomplishment, which I don’t. Anyone with a basic knowledge of math and computer/IT could do what I do truth be told. Don’t get me wrong, it’s better than being shit-ass broke, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.
What-the-fuck-ever. I’m sick of it all.