On Roommates

With the exception of late 2008 to late 2009, I have had the pleasure of living with miscreants and outcasts. Drug dealers, drug users, alcoholics, porn addicts, and one United States Army soldier. It has been worthwhile to my bank account and my sanity.

Wait. Scratch that.

I started writing in 2007- well, actually, it was some time before that, but it wasn't until 2007 that I really started to take writing seriously- because my job was just awful, and i felt that I needed to do something else with my creative energy. These days are better than those, but only just. At the time, I had just moved out of Natick and into Brighton. I like Brighton, just as I liked Natick, but there are some terrible memories lingering in the houses and shops of this town. I occasionally feel the burning need to get the fuck away from here. Go somewhere else. Do something else. Then the weight of that thought makes me scared, and I do nothing. God damn it.

But I digress. I have spent years living with outcasts, with the exception of one year. This year seems to be no different. 2010 started with one of my roommates moving out without telling anyone. He gathered what few items he had, piled them into his BMW, and drove off. He still owes me money, but far less than the Army guy owes me.

By the beginning of February we had a new roommate. I had no idea he had moved in until I came home from work to find new furniture and a large television in out living room. The owner of the furniture and television I never got to know too well, but he always seemed shady. When one of the checks in my checkbook mysteriously disappeared, I chalked it up to him. My girlfriend, having never met him, said that it wouldn't make sense for him to steal from me almost immediately upon moving in. I believed her. The case is still unsolved, but I'm guessing he had something to do with it.

Anyway, he's in jail now. Apparently he was picked up sometime last week. Once again my roommates and I need to find a new roommate. I'm hoping this scenario does not happen again. It probably will.

And I still haven't found a new job...

Shit.

My Job, My Life, My Indifference.

I started this blog as a creative outlet for writing, but that doesn't seem to be what I need. I can write whatever fucking thing I want, any time I want. I really started this site because I hate my fucking job. I have described it as a paid depression. I have a feeling that it is killing me slowly, while I try everything in my limited power to get the fuck out.

This weekend I spent 3 hours searching and applying for jobs, knowing that I'll probably never get a call or email from any of them. My current job is resume poison. It is like a herpes sore on the lip of an otherwise attractive person. It is like a big, flashing sign saying "Fuck Off". Can I get in one more simile? No? Alright.

It is perhaps the cruelest cut of all. The home office, and, to a somewhat lesser extent, the general manager all but advertise the fact that they hate every single employee that works for them. In one "Instructor lead training course" the GM actually said, out loud, with a smile, that he gets paid more money for short changing the floor staff. They make less because he wants to make more. That is probably no different than any other company, I just don't think they gleefully admit to it.

I work in a dying industry, for a company that outwardly hates all of their employees, and I can't get another job because of that. That is why I set this blog up. I set it up to fucking vent my frustrations. I set this up because each day drains more and more out of me, and I need to document this process. Occasionally I may post some other shit that I crapped out of my brain, but, otherwise, this blog will be dedicated to my life and my career slowly circling the bowl.

I hope I can make it entertaining.

Alone, Jealous and Stoned

Passed up an opportunity to see Kick Ass so that I could sit by my computer and wait for my girlfriend to call. It feels like I've been in this state for the past week. I can't seem to shake this feeling. It is like fear mixed with sadness and longing. It is the fear that I'm about to find myself single again. I'm usually right about these feelings. Perhaps it is a self-fulfilling prophecy.

I meant to use this space as an outlet for my fiction, but I'm going to make an exception. I can't move past this feeling, and it is blocking all of my creative thoughts. My writing has left me. Hopefully it is only temporary.

I also meant to post something on Sunday, but I was thrown off by some holiday involving meat and potatoes, and chocolate rabbits that lay eggs. I think it may have had something to do with fertility. Or Jesus.

From now on I'll try not to blatantly rip off song titles/lyrics for blog posts, but I may not stick to that. It depends on my mood and how well everything fits.

I'll also be posting a lot of first draft/second draft stuff that could just be daft. I may just use this space as a place to throw random chapters of longer fiction up without any sort of context.

Maybe I'll have something to post by Sunday. I'll put some thought into it. It may be worthwhile.

Bukowski said that making it with a typewriter may not be so hard*, but it certainly isn't easy.

*From My Friend Andre. He was joking.

The Age of Indifference

Staring out the window, watching the world pass by, I felt a great sense of loss. I find myself often at the window, looking out on the denizens wandering to-and-fro. I keep thinking about their little lives, and why it is that they are allowed to roam free, while I am stuck where I am.

It is really all my fault.

I chose my job over unemployment, and have regretted it ever since.

In a bid to do more with my life, I have set up this little blog. It will probably be growing cobwebs in less than 6 months.

Unless...

Unless I do something with it.

I will use it as a platform. This will be the garbage dump for my subconscious. I'll post whatever fits my mood, be it speculative fiction or journal entries, deep thoughts or inane ramblings.

I'll have a schedule. Sundays and Wednesdays. Each day I'll post something that may be worthwhile, though probably not.

From here on out I'll keep this blog like a pet, lavishing time and energy on it, hoping to get some small bit of joy.

Maybe I'll be good at it, just before I lapse into indifference, like I always tend to do.