I’m just … so damn sick of everything.  Do you ever feel that way?  It’s been coming on for years.  I remember the day I stopped loving Led Zepplin. It was during my blue period in the late 90s, or what I refer to as my “Lost year in Las Vegas.”  I simply can not hear one note of their music.  It’s tragic.

Then, it was bagels and cream cheese.  I had eaten one to many Lenders bagels.

Now, I’m only tempted to eat these type of bagels when I’m at work.  Something to break up the monotony of the day I guess.  But look at all the toppings … but I still stay away from cream cheese at all costs.

Then, more and more things started disappearing from my life.  It started with reading books.  I am a machine when it comes to reading.  I need about 4 or 5 books a week.  But for the past few years, I will go months without reading a book, then bam, this week alone I’ve read four books.  I hate it, because I want to write about all the good books I’ve read.  but then I lose the will.  I’m going to just put a picture of them here, the laziest way possible to give the authors props.  But, oh I must mention that Haven Kimmel sent me The Used World for free and autographed it for me.  What a doll, right?

Other things are going as well.  All of a sudden, I can’t stand Target.  I’d rather die than go there.  Everything in that store turned army green and cheap looking.  What happened?  Even their video section looks dreary.

I think it has everything to do with work.  I’m so horrified by that job.  I desperately want to find a job that my college degree would be put to use, or at least a place were more than 4 people work hard and the rest play.  But, I live in Michigan, where all that anyone cares about is finding jobs for the displaced auto workers.  And, oh no, don’t you dare go leaving a comment about how you workerd hard for that money, when I know damn well many of you slept on the job, left work for hours, drank or smoked pot on the job, had bbq’s instead of building cars, or did other unmentionable things here.  MANY people have told me their own stories about working on the line.  Like how some people take two hours worth of bathroom breaks on an eight hour shift.  Half of my college classes were filled with workers who laughingly told me stories that would make any persons toenails curl.  Hell, even my own scary brother went from a home owner with 10 fucking cars to a bum who drives a cab and who at the age of 33 and who may still be living with my mom.  And he got fired instead of bought out, like a dumbass.  Autoworkers – It’s not my fault you over-spent and bought houses with way to high mortgages that crashed the economy and now dominate the job market so that I can’t even get an interview because you are clogging up the application process.  I have a 0 credit card balance and live in a two bedroom condo – and four people friggin live here.  So you can see where my hate stems from.  I do realize that not every auto worker is lazy, but I’m telling you that too many stories have made their way to me, so … you people should have had the good sense to keep it quiet, because now I don’t feel sorry for you.

Moving along, I am just sick at how the world works.  If you work hard in government,  for example like I do, you get passed over for a promotion because your co-worker’s mom is friends with the boss, and who at age 20 gets to be the fourth highest paid clerk in the office.  And this is a person who wears shorts to work, does her homework, text messages non-stop, announces how bored she is 24/7, and please don’t aks me about she burps so loudly so that a memo has been sent out reminding all of us that the public can hear us and to remember to keep it down. But she doesn’t.  Sigh …

I know life isn’t fair, but can’t mine get a little more fair?  Just a little.  I mean, I have good days like when a famous novelist sent me a book for free and who has took the time to trade emails with me.  I have got to meet some famous people, and traveled to Europe, and sure, I was skinny and cute once.  But, all I want is a good job and a ranch style house so that I don’t have to climb four flights of stairs every time I do one load of laundry?  Is that too much to ask for?  Let us not force me to list the really really bad things in my life:

• A bipolar mother who sometimes hated and tortured me.
• Bad health.
• A brother who may be a serial killer, or at the least a sociopath.
• Having mice join me in bed as a child.
• No sense of security.
• Still working two jobs just to be able to splurge and buy a designer purse every once in awhile, since I make less than any other college graduate in the history of the world and have $50,000 in student loans that has to be paid back in the amount of $440 per month.
• A father who was absent, then didn’t want me when he found out about me.
• Being a person who loves walking and who in her prime just 4 years ago walked 50 – 60 miles a week, but who now can’t walk more than 15 minutes without shortness of breath and chest pains.

Let me introduce you to my new theme song: