I spent my previous Friday getting fired. It was on the agenda eventually. Invariably I leave all of my jobs because I'm not happy with them, but as I grow older I find that I don't have as much time to waste, and my performance got ahead of my nature. In truth I didn't do my job poorly, as funny as it would be to joke about it. I became the victim of office politics and a fragile ego. These things happen.
Friday was rough.
I spent a lot of time thinking about why I got fired, and about the firing itself. I didn't have any trouble figuring out who I should contact as soon as I got fucked though, and that was very comforting. My weekend-of-suck continued on by me finding out, on Sunday, that I have to pay the government 3,700 dollars in federal taxes, and 366 dollars in state taxes. It's cool, finding out immediately after you get fired that you owe lots of money. That is Charlie-Sheen-Drug-Money.
Sunday was worrisome.
I have my best friend Birk to thank for cheering me up on Sunday. We ate chips and drank beer. Played some Rock Band. I really miss that game. Birk had work to do but made the time, anyway. I really appreciated that.
Yesterday, and today, I don't feel so bad about it. It's odd, even to me, but I feel more or less fine. I owe money, but I can pay it back over time, and I can find another position. I'm even giving myself a week to get completely settled and make sure that this isn't just me being out of touch with reality. I'm often out of touch with reality, and its taken 25 years but I've learned to preempt myself.
Today is aiiight.
My comedy promoter (well, lots of people's) Dave has been taking great steps to cheer me up. All of these cheer-ups revolve around mentioning that there are loose women that I can fuck. He also mentions "with your no doubt huge cock." I cracked-wise that "you know me all too well; nothing brings a smile to my face like becoming the first in a long line of mistakes of a young impressionable girl." He has helped, though. His ill-thought-out jokes about the situation make me see that this can be something that I can joke about, and that if it were truly dire, I wouldn't be able to.
I don't want to talk about the job-loss when people try to cheer me up. Really, at this point I don't want to be cheered up. I've told the story to so many people, and gone over it so many times, that it is just best to not even think about it outside of jokes that I might make about it. Its not that I can't handle talking about it, or that it makes me feel bad when I do, but I hate explaining the same thing over and over again. It's a pet peeve, and a big reason that I wouldn't be a very good teacher.
Tomorrow will be good.
Friday was rough.
I spent a lot of time thinking about why I got fired, and about the firing itself. I didn't have any trouble figuring out who I should contact as soon as I got fucked though, and that was very comforting. My weekend-of-suck continued on by me finding out, on Sunday, that I have to pay the government 3,700 dollars in federal taxes, and 366 dollars in state taxes. It's cool, finding out immediately after you get fired that you owe lots of money. That is Charlie-Sheen-Drug-Money.
Sunday was worrisome.
I have my best friend Birk to thank for cheering me up on Sunday. We ate chips and drank beer. Played some Rock Band. I really miss that game. Birk had work to do but made the time, anyway. I really appreciated that.
Yesterday, and today, I don't feel so bad about it. It's odd, even to me, but I feel more or less fine. I owe money, but I can pay it back over time, and I can find another position. I'm even giving myself a week to get completely settled and make sure that this isn't just me being out of touch with reality. I'm often out of touch with reality, and its taken 25 years but I've learned to preempt myself.
Today is aiiight.
My comedy promoter (well, lots of people's) Dave has been taking great steps to cheer me up. All of these cheer-ups revolve around mentioning that there are loose women that I can fuck. He also mentions "with your no doubt huge cock." I cracked-wise that "you know me all too well; nothing brings a smile to my face like becoming the first in a long line of mistakes of a young impressionable girl." He has helped, though. His ill-thought-out jokes about the situation make me see that this can be something that I can joke about, and that if it were truly dire, I wouldn't be able to.
I don't want to talk about the job-loss when people try to cheer me up. Really, at this point I don't want to be cheered up. I've told the story to so many people, and gone over it so many times, that it is just best to not even think about it outside of jokes that I might make about it. Its not that I can't handle talking about it, or that it makes me feel bad when I do, but I hate explaining the same thing over and over again. It's a pet peeve, and a big reason that I wouldn't be a very good teacher.
Tomorrow will be good.
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