So, this pretty much concludes day six of twelve straight working. My supervisor informed me that I was working saturday and sunday. It's saturday. I work for at least the next six days. Probably more, because they'll just try to dick me. Not unexpected. I'm tired and my feet hurt from standing on concrete.
I'm going to do an obligatory New Years post. I know, I know, boo urns, It's the fucking 7th. Listen mi amigos, I love you guys, but shut the fuck up. It's been a busy period of mourning. Not sure who died, but goddamn it, I feel like I'm mourning something here. Maybe it's 2011, but fuck that, 2011 sucked. Let's see why, shall we?
1) Lady problems. Another banner fucking year for yours truly. What's that? Were you expecting to fall in love? Of course not, friends. That's irrational. But, you know, actually meeting some new women would have been nice. Or at least meeting new women that I can perpetuate a friendship or more with. Nope. Shut down or ignored. I mean, I ain't no looker: I'm fat and hairy, except on my head, where it counts. And yes, I didn't look incredibly hard, but there were opportunities that many female-folk could have capitalized upon. I'm pretty sure at this point in my life I'd make a pretty baller boyfriend; I've learned from my shitty relationshit mistakes from the past.
2) Creative anemia. So, in september or august (not sure which) I deleted roughly, oh, a hundred and fifty pages (give or take a few) worth of creative writing. I regret that, but seriously, most of that shit was garbage. I felt confident about very little material this past year. Shit, I couldn't even finish something for national novel writing month. Hooray
3) Stagnation. I am exactly where I was in 2010, which was supposed to be different in 2011. 'Nuff said.
So, here's to 2012. It's off to a slightly better start already. I'm writing, shit I actually feel confident about. I feel like I'm close to a new, better job. My dating life sucks, but 2 outta 3 ain't bad, right?