Angry.

I bought a new computer last November. A beautiful Dell XPS, perfect hard drive space, easy functionality. Absolute perfection, until it began crash dumping me earlier this year. When getting files for an album I would have like to have reviewed what seems like eons ago (more like more than a week), my memory crashed in such a way that I can't start up my computer. AT ALL. My short story due tomorrow afternoon was on that computer, and I didn't get to email it to myself before it crashed. I worked my ass off on that assignment, and every other assignment, whether professional or academic. My music/work is on that computer. My brand-new computer = a piece of shit (which thankfully is still under warranty). I am angry about that.

A few weeks ago, the insurance company that I work for eliminated my job title. But I'm still a licensed auto insurance agent, so why not put me into the general queue for calls? The system is so regimented and without room for leeway and I'm pretty much shackled to my desk from day break to twilight. Today, I made it through the third layoff in less than six months. I am angry about that.

I feel rather isolated from my family because of where I'm apportioning my time. I am angry about that.

I feel thrown off from my schedule and don't even know what I should be working on. I am angry about that.

I really want to go to bed, but I can't afford it. I am angry about that.

Looking in

I had an interesting experience in my creative writing class tonight. Ah, creative writing. The perks of working towards one's English degree. Our weekly assignments involve putting together works (this week, a poem; next week, a short story; in the near future, non-fictional essays), and I was randomly put into a group with other classmates. Through random acts of conversation, I found out that I was the oldest person in the group (24). No biggie. What was a pseudo-biggie to me, however, was one particular nineteen-year old girl who reminded me oddly of myself when I was that age - talkative, green, and fixated on extraordinarily frivolous things. This was pretty much revealed to me when we were analyzing a descriptive poem on elements of heartbreak, when she blurted out: "Well, I've never felt that before, but I was transported to 'that place', so I think it was a very well-written piece." It was as cute as it was annoying as it was funny. I don't know if at nineteen I'd've said something to that magnitude, although I probably would have at eighteen. At eighteen, ignorance was bliss, but at nineteen I already had the privilege of being sufficiently broken, and would learn not to be so disappointed in friendships/relationships thereafter. Rest assured, I would rather be jaded, balanced, and know how to let go than feel torn every time something ends, like a poorly formed sentence fragment.

That said, it was just funny, and refreshing to acknowledge the space between 19 and 24. In part because of a really sheltered upbringing, I've slowly realized this as time has gone on. Tonight had a hand in cementing that - while I'm still struggling to find my sea legs - I'm such a different person than I was even three years ago, two years ago. Although work and school leaves me feeling out of place as an individual, I notice how more refined I am as it were, if not perfectly polished. I like myself a lot more than I used to, and wouldn't trade the progression with a younger person if you paid me.

I think that's it. I wonder what I'll realize when I'm fifty.

today, i must:

-listen to Oh No Not Stereo's LP and hammer out a skeleton for a review to complete tomorrow night
-work out in the gym
-write a "goodbye letter" in the form of a symbolic poem
-go grocery shopping after work
-CLEAN MY ROOM (the sign of a full-time-everything [employee/undergrad/writer] is a room that hasn't been cleaned in two weeks, but an obvious attempt thanks to the sight of clean laundry crumpled and rolled up in the tidiest corner of the room)

since school started, there doesn't seem to be nearly as much time in the day as i'd like - probably because i'm allowing myself to sleep this semester, and maintain my figure.

eh. i'm annoyed and reduced to lower-case letters. so long as no one judges me - let me have my lower-case letters.