Warning: the following post is not romance related. I need to vent. If you're depressed already or don't care to hear some other chick whine about life, then skip to the next post.
I've been gone for the last few days. Had to go to LA for a work related training class. Great fun! Who doesn't like being stuck in a class from 8 to 6:30 for two days straight learning about the exciting world of lease management and audits? I know you are all envious! Please refrain from hating me so.
I got back to San Francisco Tuesday night and was still suffering the effects of smog until this morning. Work was a nightmare. I couldn't get anything done. The weather outside - sunny and bright - was calling me to ditch work and play. Unfortunately, having accumulated mountains and mountains of files over the last few weeks, I wasn't able to even consider this wonderful proposal. Instead, I stayed in a flourescent lit, cold and stuffy office building, staring at the computer and hoping with all my might (the Lord forgive me for this) that a earthquake would hit and I would be "forced" to evacuate. Gosh, how desperate have I become?
I don't quite hate my job; as a matter of fact, I do enjoy working with leases. I enjoy my boss and I love my co-workers. Unfortunately, I feel like I have to leave all original thought at the security desk, each time I step inside my building...something akin to coat check. Some people check in their coats; I check in my thoughts. It's brutal, but some people enjoy that sort of brainless work. Personally, I like talking all the time while working, expressing my opinions. I'm not cut out for work that cuts you off from the rest of the world.
I've been whining about work for a bit. Lately, I've been taking work home with me. I think about it all the time. I stress about it and the fact that I might have to stay in late all of next week doesn't make it any better. I don't get paid enough for this, but I do feel fortunate to have a good job; I'm very lucky to have a boss who respects me and co-workers who, so far, don't backstab me or talk behind my back (again, as far as I know).
Due to my work schedule lately, I haven't had the energy to read anything of substance. All I've done is watch reality tv, namely THE AMAZING RACE and SURVIVOR. I love those shows and I admire the contestants for their ability to live fearlessly and risk it all. Each week, I live vicariously through these people. I wish I had their tenacity, their strength. Tomorrow is my birthday. I will be 32. I am rather pensive because of it. It happens every year. I can't honestly say I feel old because I don't. A lot is going on and I feel a bit empty inside. At 22, I had dreams of being a screen writer, dreams I gave up because of fear, dreams I still feel powerless to realize. Gosh, I just need to express myself right now. I know it's not too late to make my dreams come true but when you're trying to pay off more than a hundred thousand dollars in student loans...well, it sure feels that way. Sorry to depress anyone here, but I just have to let this out. Call me a whiner; call me a downer. I can't hold this in. I want to win the amazing race that is life, but sometimes I discover a hurdle and I just...FREEZE!
What happened to the ambitious 22 year old, the young woman who believed she could accomplish everything and anything she set her mind out to accomplish? I know she's still there...I really need to stop for a second and look for her. She so desperately wants out and I only hope I can one day free her.