"It's my bar of chocolate, give it to me now!"

Hi. This is me blogging.

Yes, it's true, I'm leaving my job. I decided that I couldn't very well give other people my "if you're not happy with your circumstances then change them" speech unless I was willing to put it into practice myself. My last day will be March 15 (beware the ides!), and in the meantime I'm looking for another job. Preferably somewhere that won't stick me in a windowless office all by myself with a boss with whom I don't communicate well. In the last 6 months of working there I feel like I've become a far more anxious and grumpy person, and I don't like it at all. Kind of what Gollum is to Smeagol, but with more hair, less phlegm, and better posture.

My job must be making me pretty unhappy to drive me to the point of facing unemployment again, because truly there is nothing in this world that I loathe more than job hunting. Believe it or not, the job boards aren't teeming with social services jobs that aren't soul-sucking that will pay you a decent amount of money. Your soul must either be sucked or your pocket emptied. I consistently find myself searching for jobs that don't exist, refusing to bend to the reality that fun jobs aren't well-paid, because the fun you have each day is part of your wages. You can't fill your car with gas on fun. I tried once... whooping and hollering and yee-hawing while pumping the gas, and the dirty bugger still wanted $45 bucks from me when I was done.

So sometimes I'll catch myself yelling at the universe to change its rules, rather than just buck up and play by them. Like I've gotten to the checkout stand with an item I really want, and I insist that the cashier give it to me for less money than its worth, which they obviously can't do (unless you're in Mexico... but I never am, even in my metaphors). Rather than pony up the dough, I stand there and complain about the injustice of the justice. And the people behind me are rolling their eyes impatiently as I whine. I don't know what they represent... maybe all the things that are waiting to happen in my life if I'd just shut up and pay the price.

I'm concerned for our generation and its hesitancy to sacrifice. So many things provide us immediate gratification that anything that makes us wait even the littlest bit is pushed to the side. And I feel preemptively guilty for my future children who are going to be the uncool ones because they won't have a cell phone until they can afford to pay for it themselves. (A note: This is completely hypocritical of me to do because as we speak my father still pays for my cell phone bill, but that's different. Okay, it's not. Get off my case, okay? I have a lot of other things to worry about than the potential emotional and psychological damage that I could to do my imaginary children... because at this rate I should be more worried about what kind of reptiles I can legally house as I grow old single and alone and become the Crazy Snake Lady who gives awesome treats at Halloween.)

I fear I've strayed from my original point. Oh well, time for bed.