| dewy decimal |
2003-08-26 - 4:05 a.m.
Sometimes I have conscious moments where I realize that I don�t know where I am. I�ve forgotten what I was doing. I wonder who has been living in my body. An anxiety attack, confusion as bullets. Then I remember that I am used to it, the anxiety attacks. I resume my day in wonder.
So my newest boss is mad anal. If you�re anal, do you like anal? Just a thought. I was very pleased when I first met her because she seemed mature and smart, an older version of the hipster. I also thought it was great that she just moved from the place I am moving to and we just happened to skim through each other, in a symmetrical transition.
Now she is starting to scold me for petty errors, like she's rearing an adolescent . I don�t like that. It aggravates me then ruffles my feathers. So the other day she scolded for me for missing some corrections on a proof, and instead of concluding the monologue she segues into a series of admonishments based on some trite ass shit. Before she was done I spun my chair around nonchalantly leaving her talking to my skinny, little back. We didn�t talk for the rest of the day until I left when she says, �Dustin, I don�t want you to think I was being mean,�� or some shit like that. I was like �no, it�s cool� because I�m a passive muthafucka. Lazy's a great word.
I actually think that she�s a cool lady but the truth is that we�re professional opposites. She is methodical, and I am an insane human being. If she were only moderately methodical then maybe we�d work better with one another. It�s really not as bad as it sounds, which is good, cause it sounds like shit.
I hate my job. I hate that I hate my job and it�s the best job I can get in Hawaii. I can�t wait to move, and I�m very super freakin scared. You know what visually looks scared, calcified dog doo doo. Mike, Vanessa and I were talking about this. Have you ever seen white dog shit?
People liked my painting at the show. It�s always nice to hear praise for the things I produce. The work I do at my job leaves me feeling utterly worthless. I�ve been trained to always feel like my work is shit because my aesthetic opinion is unappreciated. I wanna say "hey there buddy, I just spent 7 years studying this shit and you're walking all over it, dumbass." And even if someone at work tells me that my design is nice I say "thanks," even though I know it's shit, and they made me do it. So it is nice to hear some encouragement, an unexpected surprise.Hey! Don't stop, you're doing a great job!