mainsqueeze's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Merry Fucking Christmas I have my second interview at Starbucks tomorrow. I think if I unbutton my shirt just so and tousle my hair a little bit, I'm in. I'm kidding. I only use the boobs and bed hair once I get the job. I'm getting that feeling again- You know, the complete panic, cold sweats, et cetera. My life does not appear to be getting any better. I'm not progressing. I live in a tiny one bedroom apartment, set in the middle of the working-class slums of Henderson. I don't have enough money for groceries. I can't drive, but even if I could, I wouldn't be able to afford insurance for my car, anyway. Any pride that I took in my intelligence is either gone or on it's way out. So, yeah. I wonder what the me ten years from now will have managed to build from all of this. It's not that I'm sad. I'm not. Everything is so mediocre, that's all. I had a conversation with my nine year old sister yesterday. She told me that she feels sad all of the time because Mom is always at work, I'm gone, and Gavin yells at her constantly. I felt such a terrible sense of guilt- How dare I leave her there with Mom and her wicked, mean boyfriend? How dare I leave her there with nobody to make her feel like she means anything? The best I could do was grab her hands and tell her that nothing mattered except for the way that she felt about herself. And I told her about all of the times when I literally wanted to die, and just the thought of her kept me alive. She's a good kid. She deserves the best of everything. 7:29 p.m. - 2002-09-26 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||