Same shit, different year.

Alright, so I'm a slacker and it has been just over a year since I posted anything. Here's a funny tidbit: I still have only $11 to my name! Amazing. The only difference now is that I truly have no other money and whatever I did have before has all gone towards my move to "The Box" in San Francisco. So, okay then, I guess it isn't the same shit, but it is a different year.

Reading over my most recent post, which was actually all the way back in August of last year, I have to admit that I have no idea who or what I was writing about. I sound irritated--not surprising as I am easily annoyed by many people--but I really can't recall what situation I might've been in a year ago that would've inspired me to make such a post. I'm glad that I can't remember it though because it means that a lot has happened in the last year to make me forget.

It's really important for me to know that time is really all it takes to get over disappointment. So much of my life is up in the air right now and I don't feel very secure about anything, but I'm trying to remain optimistic. Some things have turned out worse than I expected, other things have had surprising but positive twists, and the verdict is still out on the rest. More than anything, I just want to be open to good things happening because everything is changing. Even though it scares the shit out of me, there doesn't seem to be any other option but to let the changes happen as they may and trust that time will reveal how it all fits together.

So, I'm broke, really broke this time, but happy. I'm creating a life for myself! And no disappointment can rob me of the satisfaction of being truly independent for the first time.

I am totally having that moment when you think, "Wow, I'm really glad I'm not that person." Oh BOY, some people just really have a knack for making themselves look like idiots. Don't get me wrong, we all have our moments, but some people are just so off the mark when it comes to human interaction that you can't help but feel sorry for them. I think it's the obliviousness that gets to me. I just don't understand how some people can be so completely and utterly unaware of others. That, to me, is truly bizarre and sad.

Broke is no joke.

I don't know what the hell is wrong with me, but I have been on a spending rampage all summer. If I want something, I just buy it, and this is troublesome mostly because it is very unlike me! Normally, I'm very careful with money, but I've found myself using the "I really deserve this" line as justification for my frivolity. What in the world is going on here?

Anyway, I have literally $11 to last me until this Friday, which doesn't seem difficult except when I consider how I had to scrape just to get the $11 in the first place. Well, I didn't scrape exactly, but it was $11 that was not readily available to me! And I do not believe in borrowing money. Credit cards are a different story, but borrowing money from others is one thing I absolutely hate to do. I have no qualms really with lending money, but I don't like feeling indebted to anyone.

School starts again soon and all it makes me think is that this summer went by really slowly and really quickly at the same time. So I guess that means it went by at an average pace? I don't know. I just remember that when summer break started, I couldn't WAIT to have time to do anything and everything. I've done some cool stuff over the last couple of months, but now it feels like crunch time and I'm trying to think of what else I can squeeze in before August 24. I'm thinking a baseball game, a trip to the beach, a picnic maybe.

I'm giving myself more personal time this semester. Last spring, I thought I'd be hospitalized for exhaustion--no joke. I was pushing myself so hard and some days, I literally had no sleep. I knew it was bad when I found myself relating to Elizabeth Berkeley in that episode of "Saved by the Bell" when she's taking caffeine pills and sings "I'm So Excited" to Zack before bursting into tears while sobbing, "I'm...so...SCARED." Yeah, spring semester was intense to say the least. I'm really hoping to do well in the fall.

Welcome home!

I am already trying not to lose my shit and I've only been home for an hour! When I come back from a lengthy vacation, I expect to be glad of my return, not reminded of why I couldn't wait to leave in the first place. I'm not even going to waste the effort it'd take to make this a full rant. Let me just make it perfectly clear that I have exhausted every possible second chance and excuse for the person who is the source of my frustration. Emotional walls are up and I feel nothing for this person; no pity, no sympathy, no inkling of fondness. It's a complete shut-out as far as I'm concerned, and that doesn't make me a bitch, it makes me smart because guess how much bullshit I need in my life? NONE POINT NONE.

Calling it a night.

I cannot believe how bad I am at closing my store. I know what needs to be done in general, but my sense of timing is way off. The last half hour is a mad dash to do everything and we still get out late every time. This kills me.

I am a perfectionist when it comes to work. I didn't get my credibility as a supervisor by wearing a smile and kissing ass. I get shit done. Period. And that's how it needs to be, always. After I come back from vacation, I'm coming up with a detailed strategy for success because I'll be damned if anyone ever has a chance to say, "Aw man, I have to work with Jes!" Um, NEVER IN YOUR LIFE.

Maybe it's just me.

But I don't know if I'll ever be a good fit for anyone but myself.

Get out & stay out!

My dad is cleaning the house right now as a form of self-therapy. Hi, it's 10:47 p.m., you loon.

I don't know how to get my parents to stay out of my room and I am honestly starting to get a little irate about it. It's hard to really explain well, but I'll give it a try. I know I'm living under their roof--actually, it's technically just my dad's roof because he's the one paying the mortgage--but this is my room. It's my one teeny tiny claim to independence and I wish to all hell that they would just let me have this. I keep my room tidy and I've been nearly obsessive about cleaning it lately and I just think that I'm old enough for my parents to stop following behind me and cleaning up after me even though I've already cleaned up after myself! I don't even care if it's therapeutic for my dad to bust out all of his household cleaning products this late at night. Scrub the entire place until the paint starts to wear off the walls, but leave my room alone. I don't understand why this is difficult!

What really irks me is when I walk into my room and see something out of place. Do not play games with me like I don't spend almost of all my time in this bedroom when I'm not at school or work! Yes, I sure as hell did notice that someone was in here because my reading chair was moved. I angle it in a very particular way and even if it had only been budged an inch, I sure as shit would know it. I swear to God, I would feel it. The icing on this rant cake is that my dad was in here to vacuum the floors. HELLO, I LITERALLY DID THAT MYSELF YESTERDAY. Efffffff!

Every age is a tough age when it comes to dealing with your parents, in my opinion, but it's becoming clearer and clearer that I am well into a transitional phase. My mind knows it's time to move on and move out. The question is: when?