To New Beginnings!

You write what you know. I know me. I am not a bucket of sunshines and rainbows. That is not me. You want me to post happy things. Things that make others happy. I'm not going to write things my soul doesn't care for. I could blame my genes or my up bringing. I could blame the world and this society. But I know and you know, that people are who they are at their very core. With out my rain clouds, why strive for your rainbows. I live in a world of upside down smileys but the point is that I want to live. Regardless of disposition. Existing doesn't necessarily constitute the need to be happy. Some are content just breathing. Continuing the species. I say, there are already enough people with that job. I am here to balance life out. Is it a conundrum that striving for happiness makes me unhappy. In order to reach a goal, there has to be a value set. The value most likely set by a visual standard. She has a nice body and dresses well, she must be very happy. Tv. Movies. Do you feel brain washed much? It seems to me, that people who live now, live life. Truly live life.

What does that mean for me... It could mean following my own design at my own pace. It could mean shaping my self to fit a cookie cutter image. It could mean a lot of things. What it means for me right now is that the need to post this seems really important. Like I should be sorry for being who I am. I worried today that I have not been myself as of late. Then it hit me. By me, did I mean the mask I wear for polite society? The cookie shape that even on its best day, still looks a bit off. You can paint stripes on a leopard but that doesn't make them a tiger. I'm a Jen. If I repel people, then that's just who I am now. With change being ever present, I know that me tomorrow will be slightly different than me today. So while others give up on me and determine I'm a source of great fun-sucking...the most important thing is that I don't feel that way.

If I have to label myself unhappy, then I prefer to be disappointed with my choices. I fell into addiction. Sloth is after all, a sin... Yes, someone strike me down where I lay. I'm lazy and living in a hole of despair because of it. You want to know a life lesson. Happiness is hard work. You have to address and appease people in your life. You have to do a good job and with a smile on your face. You have to pretend you don't let your past affect your every breathing moment. But the reality check is in today. I do. I live in my past. When stronger more motivated people picked me up and forced me to live. Given the opportunity to do it myself...I just don't care.

People bring out my deep seated guilt. I hear their words and I know that's not the intent. Words won't change me. If words could, a year long blogging adventure may have done the trick. No, I'm done with words. From now on, I DO WHAT I WANT. I blog what I want. I live how I live. No more guilt. No more pity. No more road to finding myself. I found myself before I started this journey.

I am Jen. Welcome to my blog.

Day 1 and Day 2 of 2012

Day 1 of my new year. I was met with some startling realizations. First, if you have a close relationship with someone, it will only stay that way with constant effort from both people. Failure on either side creates distance. For any feelings hurt, I want involved parties to know that it makes me happy you consider us close. I hope that we can really get there, again, one day.

Another realization, that somehow, on my road to me, I must have thrown in the towel. Threw my head back and screamed, I don't want to live this life. I stopped living and started waiting. I know that I mention a lot, this feeling of waiting...

People in my life often mention that with time, life will make sense. That I just need to enjoy my 20's and worry in my 30's. I think that it's not in my programming to have fun. I don't understand the appeal nor the concept. It's like my OS has a virus. My goal is to reinstall a better OS.

My best friend wants to leave this American life behind. Live in a country where people live on the land and barter for only the necessities of life. She says to me that I couldn't leave my comfy lifestyle as a brainwashed American. She doesn't say this next part, but I hear her saying "you could never do an honest day's work." My lack of nice people skills comes up. "You have to be nice in order to barter or you'll starve." It's insinuated that I couldn't be nice long enough to make it. At first, I'm offended. I can do what I like when I want. Several hours later, I realize that fear cripples me. It would be a very hard life. A life not intended for me. I'm sad again, because I think, this is her giving me notice. Our friendship is going on another hiatus so she can follow her dreams. I want her to follow her dreams, and I know that they do not include me. I suddenly feel a little abandoned. A lesson I need to learn. Not everyone who leaves, is gone forever. If I know my best friend, I know she loves post cards. I'm a little happier.

Day one ends with me exhausted. So much happened on my way to the new year. I'm finally here and yet it feels like I'm still in the old year. Maybe after a month of correcting the year, it wont feel so old year. And maybe it's just me.

Day 2. Awake. Too early. Thinking on yesterday, it doesn't feel any different from the day before. Or the week before. Except for the roaring sciatic pain I developed after two nights away from my bed. Ow. I don't remember rolling hurting this much. The cat suddenly feels like a million pounds.

Yup. This year still feels the same. It's a shame that you can't scrap a body and just start over. But isn't that what reincarnation is.

I don't know who I am. I thought I knew. But now I'm not that anymore. I'm almost the entirely opposite. My up faces down and my black has gone white. Grey area seems to have melted because there is no room now in my new views. Is this attack of the body snatchers? Who am I! I'm almost the worse version of your self that you can imagine. Almost because I haven't crossed into taboo. Does that mean I still have a conscious?

Even love has died. I was once a walking contradiction. A sure foot Capricorn and a dreamer. Love was the goal in life. I watched "love" control two people who deep down hated the core being of each other. And yet claimed love. Even when the hate turned to physical violence.

I grew up with an openly cheating whore who simply needed a little Jimmy to hand you her number on her panties. I witnessed cruel women take advantage of the one other dreamer still left in my life. And even though, he finally found his dream woman, the road there was scarring.

And now, I watch a friend pick up the pieces of someone else's failed marriage, jumping in head first to what could possible be unsafe waters. I think fool. Then I am suddenly sad that, somewhere along my road of experience, the dreamer in me died. The one that followed my heart and put caution to the wind. I am suddenly jaded and full of warnings. Beware women I think. Beware their deceit and lies. He says he found her, the one. I think, the one right now.

I throw my head back again and scream again, I really don't want to live this life.

Yup. Love has died for me. I don't even have a desire to try. I am content, this lonely life, because if it's just me...it's only my life that is ruined. Even in my final attempt at love, my mind is clouded with doubt and suspicion. Texts need translating because no one says what they mean. Long time elapses become suspicious and full of unknown revelation. I'm finally her. I finally understand why it's easier to get drunk and peel off your panties. Except even that doesn't sound appealing to me.

And then I think about my youth. Regrets made known after a 5th has been consumed. Regrets that after all the abortions, the one that survived was me. Was it worth it? 5 years ago, I said yes. Today. I'm on the fence.

I'm entering day 2 in hopes that these thoughts stay on day 2. That although I am a different person who forgot how to dream, there is still hope. Without hope, there is only death. I'm still here damnit. I'm still here.

/end.

Happy 2011 T-day...

Well, it's another T-Day. I heard on a new cast earlier this week that being thankful for something makes you happier. I don’t know how true this is being that I am just glad to be an American with a roof over my head and food in my belly. Isn’t being happy all relative, if you think about it closely?  I can be happy when sweets touch my lips; a moment of bliss. Problem is, that bliss really only is for a moment. You can strive for more lasting bliss, like love. But even that has an expiration date. I guess the only way to be happy is to just live moment to moment. Honestly, the news piece about being thankful prolonging your life with happiness could’ve simply been a thanks giving theme inspired news cast; or maybe, this is just another example of how much power words have. I know this for sure, the power of those magic words our parents teach us at so young an age, really are magic. Please and thank you. 

Yesterday, I was in line to get food at a fast food place. I didn’t go there because the food was good. I wanted fast service. Life is ever moving and you either keep up or get left behind. After watching several people order and pay in the line next to me, I finally decided to speak up to the couple in front of me. Instead of a rude “What’s the hold up?” I pulled out my wallet and started digging through some ones and fives as I asked “How short are you, I can cover it.” To me, this could be the only logical hold up because I saw them order already. He replied no thanks, rather angry and I retorted on the large line forming. I wouldn’t say this was a great interaction, more like my impatience getting the best of me. Not 10 minutes later, that same man sits down at my table and talks to me. You can imagine the look of horror on my face as I am slowly inserting a deep fried potato into my mouth… He says to me “I just had to come over and talk to you. I wanted you to know that I was in a bicycle vehicle accident this morning and I have been very slow moving all morning. Everyone has been rude and yelling at me to hurry up. But you were the first person to offer help and I am thankful. I needed to tell you that it made me cry and I was truly appreciative.” I think I said I am sorry 3 times with my eyes just growing bigger and bigger. I don’t know if I was in more shock that this stranger was speaking to me, or that he was making me out to be this saint. In reality, I thought that the offer to pay would get him out of line faster. I didn’t do it because I thought he needed the money. I didn’t say this to him, because I didn’t want to ruin the moment. We said happy T-day to one another and that was the end. 

I sat on the bus a little while later and cried a little. I had the beginnings of a horrible day and here comes this man to put my life in perspective. No matter how shitty my day, there is always someone else who has it worse. It’s times like these that I curse being born a sheltered American white female with no sense of hard ship and poverty. I don’t know how it feels to starve or how it feels to worry about a roof over my head. I don’t know how it feels to think “Today is probably my last day.”

So this is what I am thankful for. That there are other people here to put in my place. Remind me that I was the lucky one and I better not forget it. I am truly sorry, man that I met at the fast food restaurant. I am sorry that I assumed your life was like mine and that you were simply choosing to be an ass by taking for ever. I wish this lesson could last, but I also know, that you can only live from moment to moment.

Happy T-day all! 

Yay for Twisted Fairy Tales!

So, no, I didn’t forget about you. I kind of have been blogging twice a week but for a cat thing. I volunteer now at an older cat rescue place at a pet store near my house. Twice a week, I have to write these shift reports. Of course, my shift reports are ten times longer than they need to be. Probably one of the bigger reasons I stopped blogging over here. I get my long writing fixes else where. But don’t fret, I am back! I missed you too, internet hug [[[[[[[[[[[[[[[blog]]]]]]]]]]]]]]].

So what’s new? Any of my readers get married, have kids… the works?

My last blog was a little off the usual topic. Sorry. I needed to vent. Not having a best friend any more has created this vent less void…who will listen to my bad day at work when I get a job? The cat just wants food. Sometimes the cat annoys me. In the way that a boyfriend might live with you jobless and rent free eating free food and rolling around in free cat nip. Yea, I’m on to you Kitty! Too bad there aren’t a whole lot of employment options for my cat. I think we both need to start pulling some weight if we want to pay rent. Just saying

(Every time I say/write “just saying”, the picture to the left shows my facial expression and body language.)

Other than that exciting news, life is still the same. I found a cheap used copy of Final Fantasy 13 for PS3 which I played on the PS3 at my Dad’s house. It was technically my first RPG game if you don’t count FF 6 on Psone, which the horrible graphics gave me such a headache. I love love love FF13. I wish I had stayed longer to play it, but I had to come home and take care of my jobless cat. I find myself day dreaming about playing FF13. It’s so pretty and I love the story line. This just proves that I should have purchased a PS3 instead of the x-box360 (which I took back and used the refund money to go out drinking with friends – STUPID). Future purchases: Used PS3 and Used FF13. 

This is why I really need a job. Rent is easy. I mean, my current rent is a little higher than I’d prefer, but I can always make rent.  I am smart (I’m a girl.)

Started a new series, CASTLE. Great show. Their network does horrible marketing. From the commercials I saw, I thought it was another (BORING) crime/law drama. Nope. It’s a funny sarcastic writer (firefly captain) who follows a hot (strong) homicide detective he uses as a muse in a line of books called Nikki Heat. IF you haven’t seen this show, know this – I am extremely picky and I loved it. Don’t hate me if I say I wasn’t a big fan of firefly. (I found it boring and it dropped it half way through the series.) It’s funny because Firefly is full of the younger versions of a lot of my favorite actors/actresses. The lady from V, the lady from 4400-Sara Connor Chronicles-Dollhouse, the guy from Castle… and much much more.

Sometimes I wish I’d stopped getting unemployed (more than for the obvious reasons) but also because I always start new series I haven’t seen. Why is this a problem, you ask? Well, Fall is when they all seem to premiere. I feel like my schedule is booked right now with all the shows I am trying to stay current; I am not complaining, I love options. But wow, my Thursday is the craziest. I think I have close to 10 shows that air that day alone. I read somewhere that Spring/Summer is the time for block busters in the theaters and Fall/Winter is the time for great prime time television. I guess people stay in when it’s cold out. I happen to like being out more in the cold, but I’m weird.

I am actually really excited about my oldies but faves like Fringe, Haven and Warehouse 13. Some of the new shows that I am really liking are The Secret Circle, Pan AM and The Playboy Club. I still haven't made up my mind on the new shows Hart of Dixie and the Ringer... And I still need to Charlie's Angels and the Gifted Man. Plus, there are two twisted fairy tale like shows coming out around Halloween. I think it’s funny that there are two coming out at the same exact time from competing networks. Their overall series concepts appear to be slightly different. See below:

The Wiki of Once Upon a Time (ABC): Airs 10-23-2011

The series is loosely inspired by the classic fairy tale stories except set in the present day, hence the series name. The stories hold a key to the mystery that will draw a bail bonds collector and the son that she gave up for adoption 10 years earlier to a New England town called Storybrooke, Maine. This town is actually a parallel world in which fairy tale characters look like normal people and don't remember their true identities or anything about their true lives.

The Wiki of Grimm (NBC): Airs 10-28-2011

Set in present-day Portland, Oregon, the series puts a new twist on the stories of the Brothers Grimm in which a homicide detective learns that he is a descendent of a group of hunters known as "Grimms", who fight to keep humanity safe from the supernatural creatures of the world. Upon learning of his destiny and that he is the last of his kind, he has to protect every living soul from the sinister storybook characters that have infiltrated the real world.[3]

I’m not going to lie, I think I am going to like Grimm more, but the hot blond doctor (not Oliva Wilde) from House is going to be the star of Once Upon a Time…so I am on the fence until I see the actual shows. I recommend you watch both and give me your opinions.

I love hero movies, but I am also digging this new twisted fairly tales route that movies and TV are headed. There are rumors of some snow white films being made. One of the directors possibly being Tim Burton. Way to creep up Willy Wonka and make me dislike qualities of Alice in Wonderland. If you really want to see an Alice in Wonderland masterpiece, Google “Alice the SYFY mini Series”. Hands down, best “when Alice grows up and comes back to wonderland” story out there. SYFY (regardless of the stupid rename) made another awesome miniseries based on “what happened after Dorothy left in the Wizard of Oz” called Tinman. SYFY is getting ready to premier a new mini series in December based on Peterpan before he met Tinkerbelle called Neverland. I am excited, minus Keria Nightly being Tinkerbelle. (Sorry fans of her, she just looks like an ugly brutting man in women clothing.)

Well, I think I am done writing for now. I would love to write more, but there is a guy sitting next to me at the Seattle public library grunting every 10 seconds. I think he is mentally … not all there. I like sitting at a desk and typing. At home, I have a bed and a TV dinner tray. It’s not great for maintaining a proper posture as I type on the cursor moving key board of my laptop. You have been a great audience.

If I had to give you something to ponder, it would be this: “Do you feel like you know what you would need to do to create your perfect reality, but it’s 1. Too hard or 2. You don’t quite know all the tiny steps within steps to get you where you want to be? Or Both? I think I am both- Lost and Lazy. What about you?

Jen

Rant ... How dare you!

I stumbled across a piece of disturbing news about men that I had to blog about. I am not sure if I am trying to rationalize a man’s thought process or if I just want to figure out where the blame falls.

Men are actively choosing to watch porn and masturbate rather than sleep with their women. Yes, you read that correctly. Men would rather get carpel tunnel than enjoy the two (on more) person activity with one another. Not all men, but it is becoming an epidemic. Google it.

I recently read a woman’s story online when she asked for advice via the internet. This woman says in her story, that she met a really nice man and their personalities really hit it off. Their first date, they watched movies at home and got shit faced drunk. The guy kept saying he was too drunk to have actual intercourse, but would love other sexual favors. He then said “when I am less drunk, the sky is the limit”. The next morning, he was caught jacking off. When confronted, he simply said “You’re cute, but you don’t float my boat.” This man slept in this woman’s bed, received sexual favors and wasn’t even attracted to the woman!! I feel so horrible for her. A lot of the online advice was RUN. And there’s more fish in the sea… But how does that help her self confidence?

I began looking online some more and found that this is happening to women of all ages, sizes and commitment levels. Wives walking in on husbands who turned down sex earlier that night. Girl friends listening to their men get off in the shower alone, even though she was waiting naked in bed for him. I don’t understand what kind of world we live in. IF this happened to me, I would kick that man out of my house and tell him not to let the concussion to his head let him crash and die on the high way. I feel like I live in the real world where real people fornicate in real effing life. Not some RPG game where all the girls are animated and they always give you what you want via your hand.  

Stories like this make me want to give up on love and just settle for my happy SOLO life. I would never act like I am attracted to someone I am not just to be kind. In the long run, your actions hurt more than you think they helped. Honestly, I wish the man in the woman’s story had just been upfront on their first date. Instead of drinking, he could have said, hey, I think you’re cool, but I’m not into your look. You can’t hate someone for being honest. Lying is ten times worse.

The morale of this story, make sure you ask some really obvious questions before you make an ass out of your self with “assumptions”. And never give someone the power to lower you self confidence. You are who you want to be and it’s a damn good version, no matter what anyone says.

Having said this, I think I am ending the search for love until after the holidays. Who knows, maybe turning 26 will make me feel less jaded after reading stories like this online. How dare you men of America. HOW EFFING DARE YOU.

/End rant. 

HOPE

I am trying to figure out what would make me happy; or really, waiting for someone to come make me happy. Five days in and I see that it’s just me and the cat. What am I waiting for? I still need to figure out what I want out of this life. If we are being honest, I just want to be needed by someone else. For years, I was # 50 on the long list of friends to my Best Friend. I managed to reach her top 5, after a lot of mutual compromising. I don’t think I ever made it past spot # 5 though, and maybe that’s why I walked away. Walking away is probably the only thing I did… I have to finally let it go.

I am really good at motivationally hyping myself up. I can talk a great game. And I am still just talking. I don’t think there is anything so wrong with that anymore. I am focusing so much on who I don’t want to be anymore rather than who I am. I am really good at a lot of things. They aren’t the normal things. I can’t say I’d actually enjoy a walk along a beach unless it was a full moon and I was barefoot. Or I am not a camper/ hiker, unless I can bring all my bedding and sing made up songs about nature. I read somewhere a while ago that the people who are unhappy are they ones with high expectations. I have so many expectations; about time and demeanor. Maybe it’s time to finally let go.

My first love teased me all the time. He said that I cared too much about what others thought. I was always getting embarrassed in public… A song would come on the radio and he would just start dancing all weird in front of strangers. I was horrified. And of course, he made me dance too. I had so much fun. It was the first time I remember really enjoying my life. He really changed how I saw the world. It’s funny to think back on all the things I learned from him. Funny because I am finally my worse night mare and honestly, it’s not as scary as I thought it would be. It’s strange how your perspective can be altered when you hear the same negative words day in and day out. My mom told me I was fat almost every day of my life. He… would laugh at me. Tell me that I was silly for even thinking I could be fat. Then he made a rule, every time I said I was fat, he would moo. He did it too. I didn’t actually start getting fat until he was long gone. Now I am officially fat and really, I am glad. All those years mom and I am finally what you saw. At least I don’t care what she thinks anymore.

I didn’t understand him back then. But I think I can now. I am really set on this whole, someone to find me and to make me happy. I just don’t know how to make myself happy. I say it all the time, I do things for my friends, co-workers and family that I wouldn’t do for myself. A lot of the advice I give to others, I could use it for myself. After all these years and the many blog posts I have created and I still can’t hear my own voice. Amazing how I can be so narcissistic. That’s me. I have bad sides. The key word there is sides, as in more than one. I can’t change everything about me, because I am who I am. But I can strive to add sides to me that outweigh the negative. Rather than changing, let’s just make room for more.

Let’s face it, no one takes change with out a little heart break. I am tired of heart break. Can we get some tape over here? I am ready to move on. If I do what makes me happy, like minded people will surround me and I am sure I can find people who are there sharing moments rather than creating my moments for me. I need to create my own life. No one is creating it for me. This means, making decisions on my own, and dealing with the consequences. No more phone calls to family demanding they make the right decision for me so that I don’t ruin my life. Like a phoenix, I will rise up from the ashes and try again. Because that is what being an adult is all about.

I am still going to need my Pandora box - there is no ripping off this band aide quickly. But slowly, I think I can open that box and let the emotions settle so I can deal with them like my sister has. I have a feeling this box has been leaking anyways. I thought I created this box when a man hurt me a few years ago. But thinking about the repressed memories I have seen in the past few months…  I think I made this box a really long time ago. I am ready to deal with my past so I can have a future. I am so proud of my little sister, being a wife and a mother. Still remaining positive even though she remembers our child hood and I can barely remember what I ate, last night. I no longer want to be like her (Even if she is fabulous and yes, finally prettier than me). I want to be like me. However I am going to be. I always say that I can’t wait to use my genie wishes. I have a list. But at the end of the day, most of that list is on me. I could do it if only I would. Joie, don’t change. One day I hope you will be proud of me. Even if I have to wait ‘till my death bed to hear it, I hope to hear you say it. HOPE. 

Found this through a friend

Website for Comic

My personal Pandora's box

There hasn’t been a lack of inspiration. More like an influx… Every time I put cursor to blank document though, I can’t see anything. My eyes blur up and the keys seem miles away. Maybe it’s a message for me to go many miles away. I can’t think or put my thoughts here anymore. Some of my posts were sad, but all in all, blogging made me happy. Sharing my crazy and finding out who I was. On July 22, 2011, that all went away. I lost my world. Relapsed into old Jen. I feel like an addict who finally got their gold coin of sobriety only to use that coin to pop the top on the liquor bottle or line up the crushed substance. I have a problem. No, it’s not drugs or alcohol. I can’t say what it is, but it doesn’t make me a good person. And at the end of the day, I hate myself more than yesterday. I just miss everyone. I feel like there is a hole in my heart. Spots I am keeping warm, in case “they” come back. They aren’t coming back. They never do. I know they leave because of me. The me I am relapsing into. Will I ever see the best parts of me? I know I created this reality. That doesn’t make it better, it just better places blame. It means that I am not good at the only job I am truly obligated to…

I didn’t want to write a sad blog. I won’t fake happiness . I am what I am. I can’t be who they want me to be. I can put on a mask long enough to peek their interest, but never long enough to keep them around. Do they leave or do I push them out. I am not even sure who they are. People, forced to interact for some greater purpose. Why am I still here?

I can’t write anymore. I just wanted you to know that I am not dealing well with all the people departing my life and I feel like I am falling into a hole I dug to deep to climb out of… But as per my personality, I will just wait for my Amber to find me. Working distracted me from the pain. Not working, I think about 9 years out the window because I wanted someone to be something they are not. I will lie here and see what comes along because that’s just who I am. If I end up buried alive, at least that what the reality I created. 

I am usually so anal about my posts. It takes me hours to write them because I read and re-read them over and over before I post them. I go over them, picking them apart, trying to figure out what other people are seeing. I wrote this one in 20 minutes and I have not re-read it. I don't want to feel the pain I felt when I started typing. They say that cameras can capture a part of your soul. I hope this blog is taking my bad emotions and locking them in a box. Thats how I got over someone who really hurt me. I envisioned all the pain I felt, trapped in a little wooden box in my heart. With little brass hinges and a lock. I used to worry the box would open... Now I just hope that I can fit more things in it. This post is a little of the thoughts in my head I hope to stuff in that box. I don't want to see them or read them. 

I couldn't say it better myself

Dun dun dun... Another one rides the bus.

If you have taken a bus recently and don't agree, I will call shanatigans! 

I can finally see it, my soul

I am not trying to be shallow, any picture would have done. But (drum roll please)  I have finally learned how to use the color splash technique on photo bucket (ok ok, I learned 2 months ago, but this is the first time I did it on my own picture.)

I guess you could say that I have always had a weird obsession with eyes. Every boy that I crush on, it's the eyes baby. Well, and the dark hair...I can't recall ever being with any a light haired men. Weird. Now you know 2 things about me, I love eyes and blonds should dye their hair dark if they want a chance with Jen. Woo!

I promise I am not being vain, although the compliments this week are making it difficult not to run down to the court house, mirror in hand. I just wanted you to see what I see. When there is no distraction, no other color and your eyes are forced to focus on one area of a picture, what do you see? I saw my soul. There it is, whispering questions to me through the windows that are my eyes. Helping me to fulfill my life mission by never being satisfied with my current knowledge base.

But don't be fooled. Although my outside (neck up) is tolerable to stare at, I am by no means beautiful. Why do I say this? Because beauty is on the inside and I am filled with dark crippling hatred. Until I can learn to let it go, I will always be the Frankenstein monster on the other side of my reflection.

Ready?

Taken June 28, 2011, @ Work

Pondering: "________________?" 

Did you see it? My thought captured in that precise moment by the camera? I did. What was I thinking?

The world may never know.

DISCLAIMER:*This picture was not altered in any way. I simply erased all color from the photo with a click of a button and then indicated the area where I wanted the color returned. This was the actual color of my eyes at this moment. Sometimes they are hazel with green around the iris and sometimes they are a golden brown. I guess it depends on the weather. I added color back to my lips at one point and decided to remove it because it looked a little clown-ie, lol.*

Any minute now...the sun always rises tomorrow...

Nothing compares to that feeling of losing something. Whether it’s losing at the reality of life or whether it is losing something you hold dear. In some cases, it feels like both. I like to prepare my hours for the week on Monday so that I am less flustered on Friday. The first day of July (This Friday) was grayed out and I panicked. I thought, oh, this is how they let me know that Thursday is my last day. I held it together long enough to call my agency. Apparently my contract was through to July 1^st, but my assignment hasn’t indicated that they wanted it to officially end yet, so I am working on getting Friday active again on my hours screen. This fright has made my numbered days feel like numbered minutes. Every temp knows that any day could be the last day. Not thinking those thoughts is what separates the good temps from the bad temps. I am finding it harder and harder to be positive though. I sometimes wish that I had not showed interest in the permanent position. Then this would be like any other assignment. A job that needs to get done by someone. Someone like me, who chose to be apart of the uneducated class.

It doesn’t help that Monday’s are always the worse for me. Not in the way that everyone hates Monday. I am not sure I hate Mondays. I just always feel like I am getting over a small case of agoraphobia every Monday. I stay locked up in my house all weekend, not saying a word, not doing much and then I am thrust back into society where I must smile and socialize. I want to run and go hide in my house, all alone. But I come back to work every Monday because the fear of losing my house is stronger than the fear of leaving it for 10 hours. I hope that one day, I won’t actually develop agoraphobia. After all, it’s all in my head and I control my head. I think therefore I do.

I have such anxiety this morning.

Just thinking about my numbered minutes. Sometimes my boss walks by my desk and I think, this is it. This is the moment that she will tell me my world is over. I find myself avoiding her out of fear. Like, if you can’t find me, you can’t release me. It’s silly and childish. I want to feel immature though. I want to hide in a cupboard and watch all the adults as they look for me. I look down at the finger tips pressing the keys to this blank document and I think, “These are not the hands of a child.” I can’t remember the day that I grew up but I look all around me and it’s evident that I am no longer a child and I haven’t been one for some times. I wish I could remember the exact moment when I crossed that line. Maybe it wasn’t a line but a series of achievements that just finally won me the grand prize. Like, Jen, you have done this, done that and survived this, you are ready to be a boring member of the society you loathe so much. Lovely, but what now? Is acting like I know to fool the younger generation apart of the package? I thought people my age hit 25 and magically, they knew the answers to all those questions. But in reality, I just got better at acting like I did. I wish I had learned the answer rather than learning how to deal with the unknown. I don’t want to deal. I want to know.

I feel lost, but I know that I have the tools to look found. If I looked how I felt, how different would my life really be? Seems like I would be worse off. I should count my blessing and be thankful my last minute isn’t this one.

Happy Monday readers.