mainsqueeze's Diaryland Diary

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One is Enough

Thank god, thank fucking god that I don't have to work today. Nellie says I have "short-timers' syndrome" because I know I am leaving, kind of like how in highschool they called it "senioritis" when we were too close to the end to care anymore. I wish I was exaggerating, I hate doing a half-assed job at anything, but work is becoming harder and harder every day. Harder and harder to care, I mean. Really, who cares if so-and-so came to work unshaven? If what's-her-name forgot to upsell desserts? Who the fuck cares?
I have added another possible major to my already huge and ever expanding list. Obstetrics, maybe? So much schooling, so little time. I am young but the idea of spending the next, what, eight? Ten? Twelve? years in school not only completely flattens me with its enormity but is so ridiculously expensive that if I were to continue in the line of work I am in tuition would amount to about 15 years of my salary. I hate money, hate it, hate it. I don't have it, don't want to think about it, don't want to need it... Fuck it, fuck money. Fuck how important we have made it. And time, too, so little of that. A friend told me he fantasizes about having a thousand different lives, to try a new way each time, infinite chances... But I only get one and I'm trying really hard to knock it back on track and that in itself takes time, too. I just want one good one, that's all. I'll be happy with that.

11:13 a.m. - 2007-03-21

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