How does that song go? Oh yeah, I Hate My Job

Yes, this much is true.  I really freaking hate my job.  And I don't care much for the people I work with either.  There's a lot of big personalities there and one, who I've worked with for a quite a while and I still can't figure out if that is stoned or just stupid.  Seriously, I have really tried to figure it out.  I still can't decide.  For some reason my boss, lately has decided to move up my ass and take up permanent residency.  He's been dogging me here and there, making false accusations and seemingly not trusting me to my job even though I've done it for 8.5 years and take up the tasks of other employees.  Whatever.  I just need the paycheck to clear and I'm good.

So I tell myself.  The truth is I'm scared.  I'd hardly admit that anywhere else but here yes, I am scared.  The refinance upped our mortgage payment quite significantly and we've got two loans besides that.  Shawn's business is still just a baby and a monthly salary is not guaranteed.  What am I supposed to do anyway?  The way to search for a job has changed and I don't understand it at all.  The classifieds don't cut it anymore, everything's monster.com and all that. 

I've entertained the idea of going to school, briefly, but I have no idea what I want to do.  I'm terrified that I'd put all this time and money into learning a skill to find out that I absolutely hate it.  I can do that now for free.  Yes, I hate my job but it's secure.  I'm fairly confident that if lay-offs were ever to happen, I'd be one of the last because I'm like a jack of all trades in the field.  So I continue to mutter and dwell on the past.  I keep my mouth shut because you can't just go around telling everyone what's wrong with them.  Although sometimes I really wish I could. 

I don't need anyone to tell me, I already know I'm negative and emotional and slightly psychotic.  I KNOW why I don't have any friends and I don't care--I wouldn't have time for them anyway.  I never asked to be this way, I was created.  That's what a lot of people don't understand.  It took twenty years for me to become this way and I've honestly tried to change.  I spent years on it and finally decided that I no longer cared what anyone thought of me.  Take me or leave.  I've a lot on my mind and ton of shit to do.  Either you like me the way I am or you don't.  And if you don't like me, I could honestly care less.  I've probably thought about dozens of things I don't like about you as well.

I digress, as always.  I want a simple fix and I wonder if that's so wrong.  Some people have things handed to them.  Some have to toil and sweat and bleed.  I'm a bleeder and a sweater and a toiler.  Why is so wrong to wish for a winning lottery ticket?  I'll even keep my nasty job--I just wanna pay down this debt, get a shop for Shawn and maybe a little left over for a degree for myself. 

I'm done praying about it.  I've prayed for a lot of things for many years, over and over.  In regards to Shawn's smoking and how many years I spent praying about it, I once said to God, "You created the entire universe with a single word.  Would this be so much to ask for?"  I suppose it really is.  I stopped praying about it. 

Man, I really hate my job though.  I could write pages on why I hate it.  I'm supposed to be grateful to have a job while so many do not.  Oh yes, I am so grateful I don't get a free ride, food stamps, free health care and rent paid.  Lucky me.  I'm so tired of the heat and the cold and butt blood stains.  There are some coworkers I'd really love to just hit in the face the second their mouth opened and say, "Shut the fuck up!  Don't you have something to do?"  I've had it with the filth and sweaty arm pit stains.  I'm sick of cleaning the microwave and handling blankets with other people's sex drippings (ew).  I'm tired of people speaking to me as if I don't know what's going on, as if I were dim.  I'm tired of people getting at me for doing my job and after EIGHT years acting as though I don't know how to do my job.  Please, I did my job extremely well, even after taking Vicoden for dry socket after a wisdom tooth pulling.  I could do this shit in my sleep and still do it well.

I wasted my twenties and here I am working on wasting my thirties and doing a damn fine job of it.  Lucky me.