Yes, hi. Could you please direct me to the correct line? I need to submit my letter of intent. Intent to give up on life, that is. Oh? There is no such place? No place to resign from living?
I made the decision last night that I'm going to quit my job, quit responsibility and live off the fat o' the land. I don't even know what that means, exactly, but it sounded appealing. Sitting under the shade of a tree, growing my own vegetables, not showering, starting to smell... OK, so maybe not so appealing. But still. I want to give up on the real world. I'm not good at it. I'm a bad sport. A quitter. A sissy.
It's about 492 degrees in Wisconsin today. At least. I have no air conditioning, which I'm positive we've been over already. I sit in my apartment and sweat. I sweat sitting down. I don't even have to make an effort to sweat.
Working has lost its luster. I just... don't want to do it. Anymore. Ever. Oh? You mean the bills won't pay themselves? Shoot. I barely make enough money to scrape by. And scraping, my friends, is no way to live. There must be a job - somewhere, anywhere. But hopefully in the land of The Fiance - that pays enough to support me. I need to be supported in the manner to which I am accustomed, as Mom so often puts it. You know, all I ask for is food on the table. Some toilet paper and toothpaste every now and again. Honestly.
I'm in a never-ending funk. The funk that I am in never ends. And it's really getting quite old. I'm tired of myself. I'm tempted to beat the crap out of myself, if I knew how. I mean, how irritated at life can a person really get? Snap out of it, Krista.
(Editor's note: I promise, the promise amongst all promises, that once I safely land a job and begin a life WITH The Fiance, I'll snap right back into shape. Promise. But until then, dammit).
On a happy note (yay, happy!) I get to go wedding dress shopping with Mom tomorrow. That's huge. Huge. I've got my eye on my Dream Dress, and I CANNOT WAIT to try it on. And feel like a princess, etc. Oh, happy.
I'm also spending a much-needed weekend at home, with the family and The Fiance. So this all makes me quite pleased. Now if only this dang work day would end so I could have at it...
Oh, and also, I'm so done running. Done. No more. The pain in my shins has moved from irritating to debillitating. I'd be more upset about it, but quite frankly, I'm so tired of worrying about it, that I look forward to giving up. Which I'm still debating. More on that story to come. You know, next week. When I care to tell it.