Some weeks suck more than others...

and this is one of those weeks that sucks a lot. I have a lot I want to ramble about because I've had nothing to do but think about why I'm angry and frustrated and why everything in the world is making me mad, but frankly I don't think you people want to hear about that so I'm doing my best to restrain myself.

The thing is, I didn't like my job, it was just comfortable. I made decent money and I had a good insurance package. As I type this I realize how sad my life has become. Who knew that at 24 I'd be so worried about quality insurance packages.

Anyway, I'm excited to distance myself from that job and be able to go out there and apply for jobs that I actually want and that may have just an inkling or two of connection to my degrees. They were expensive degrees. I'd like to put them to use.

No, the frustrating thing is that I was less than 12 hours away from signing a lease to rid myself of the evilness that is living at home and that has been unceremoniously snatched away from me. Seriously, I feel like a prisoner who was led to the exit just to be told "that's what you can't have" Reminds me of the movie Circle of Friends. "I don't know why you let me go to University. It's like taking me to the top of the mountain and showing me the world, and then marching me back down, and saying, 'That's what you can't have Benny, you silly great fat article. Here's what you can have: Knockglen for the rest of your life and married to Sean bloody Walsh!' I'd rather be married to a bloody lizard!"

But seriously, I feel like my boss (and my mom) said pretty much those exact words. And it's seriously depressing. And everyone (but my mom) is trying to be super supportive but I feel like most of them think less of me now and I hate that.

But alas, I'm rambling like I said I wouldn't. The moral of the story is that this seems to have turned me into a mass of uncertainty and self counsciousness and has led to a whole lot of introspection. And that whole self-doubt thing.

I'm supposed to hang out with friends tomorrow and do some oil paintings for my friend to decorate her house with, but mostly I feel like laying in bed with my stuffed eeyore, acting like I'm about 5 years old and pretending that this week didn't happen. Clearly I'm in full on denial and wallow mode.
Forgive me.