Thursday, December 15, 2005

Dusk Before Age

Well, 1 1/2 hours before I turn eternally old and begin the long process of decay into death and oblivion.  All my profiles around the world are being updated automatically, revealing my true age.  Bastards, all of them.  Fuckers.  But that's what I get for living.
 
I wasn't supposed to live beyond this age, actually.  For many years I was convinced that I would die this age.  I guess there's still a little bit of time, but really; what can one do.  It seems to be pretty set that I will go through with this aging process and well, there we go.  That's life. 
 
Imagine how I'm going to be when I turn 40.  Or 30. 
 
On the one hand, life has been pretty good this past week. 
 
Earlier this month and last month I was feeling traditionally tragic about not having any direction or change in my life.  I felt stagnant and depressed for doing the same job for five years, having a relatively shitty apartment, not having a fabulous collection of shoes (which is what I always imagined I'd have, with a nice oak pidgeon hole closet for them all to reside in), or any special love interest.  But I reinventoried at that time; I do have a shitty job, but at least I do have a blast when I go to work.  I have friends at work; close, wonderful friends, and a really good time.  We sing, we shout, we holler; we have a good time.  It's a good feeling. 
 
The apartment.  Well, there are some things wrong with it, but hey, I have lots of space for myself, and I have the perfect amount of decoration.  I do have lavish tastes, and I've accomplished establishing a little next/cocoon where I can be myself.  And that's deliciously important. 
 
The shoes.  Well, they may not reside in their own oak homes, but I do have a wonderful collection of very chic and very pretty shoes.  And that's not too shabby.
 
Some things I didn't consider; that my relationship with my mom and dad would be a lot better, which it is.  We had lots of problems in the past, but now it's going pretty well.  My sister and I are getting along a little bit better.  I have a closet full of absolutely fabulous clothes.  I have a nice collection of movies and sitcoms which allows me to not miss cable TV at all.  Or any TV.  I've done some great writing.  I've been published.  I have my absolutely stunning good looks.  I may not have lost much weight, but hey, it's been constant for 8 years, what the hell is the problem.  I have wonderful wonderful wonderful friends who I adore and who love me.  And really, what could be better.
 
So what are the goals I have in the next year.  Let's work on that.
 
Let's keep swimming.  Let's stop smoking.  Let's eat better.  Let's get a better job.  Let's do some more writing.
 
5 Goals.  Well, actually, that's not too shabby.  5 Goals.  I can do that.
 
So today started out pretty average.  I got a call from TC who said that there is a job opening in the firm where I might be able to get a job.  Which was joyous information.  Plus, that's 15K-20K more than I make now, which was fucking delicious.  TC was hesitant to tell me the amount, suspecting (though I assume this suspicion was fake--it was probably more of a guess to see how much they can get me for, but hey, beggars can't be choosers) that I might not agree with it, but we'll have none of that.
 
TC said I have to get through the two gate keepers; TC and another TC, both of whom I love, so there's no problem there.  We just have to wait until the end of January, when law firms start making their decisions.
 
I will be so happy to abandon this shit.  So my job will get better, I just have to be patient.  And that will automatically achieve one of my goals. 
 
Well, have an hour and 15.  Fuck.  Age.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

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