*Sigh*
Today I feel like the epitome of the word "sigh". The expulsion of air from my lungs is just a big *puff* of lack-luster oxygen.
I didn't always feel this way about the day. I started out pretty well actually. A large Tim's Steeped Tea (One of their better inventions, I think) nom nom nom. Bagels cooperated; the dough was perfect. I even got to stay late (wooo making more money!!) and do some decorating. Making more money is my mantra to staying late at The Grocery Store. What I really want to do is go directly home and to bed, but my wallet screams "Noooo, FEED ME MONEY!!" and since I do whatever it says, I stayed for the extra 2 hours and made 20 bucks. I hate minimum wage.
My father even pulled up on the proverbial white horse in shining armour (aka, the silver of our mini-van) to save me from taking the bus home from work, again, in the garlic suit.
The entire good feelings I had dissolved when I got home and could not find a single thing to eat. It was out of pure frustration that I made tomato soup, only to have sickatating white floaty bits in it, that I am sure were the remnants of my "breakfast-for-dinner" pancakes I made last night that were clinging to the whisk. My house is under renovation, so we hand wash all our dishes. I know this makes me seem "hard-done by" to complain about having no dishwasher, but it really does suck when you realize you forgot the inside edge of the whisk and end up with pancake batter in your tomato soup. But in the end, it tasted fine.
The irritation, however, did not dissolve as easily as the batter into the soup. I was infuriated with the fact that I wasn't actually hungry at all, but was only eating because it seemed natural that I should eat something at 1:00 when I hadn't eaten since 5:30am. But in the end, the soup was relatively satisfying and I wasn't clawing out my stomach with hunger an hour later. After watching a bit of Ace of Cakes on Food Network (I WILL marry Geof one day. He's my all-time top favourite because he is just sooo mellow; he would be the perfect balance to my crazy), I decided I needed a proper nap and crawled into bed with a big, you guessed it, *SIGH*.
I slept for approximately 2 hours before rolling over and thinking my clock said "7:45" instead of actually being "3:45". It was a bit of a nasty shock thinking I had been dead to the world for 6 hours with no idea of how it happened. I rolled over and slept for another couple of hours and woke up feeling worse than when I started the nap! My throat was all tight and awful and I am more and more convinced I am getting sick. Though they say that rest and sleep help, I always feel awful when I wake up and my whole throat is screaming "WATER!!! PLEASE!!!!". No desert is drier than my throat when my nose is plugged. Apparently I also snore like a water-buffalo when this happens, or so my sister tells me. It is only with a conscious effort that I try to breathe steadily through my nose at sleep overs so as not to disturb the peaceful slumber of my friends. A lot of them know by now to just listen to music, it's better than hearing me truck on with gasps for air every couple of seconds.
I once sighed so loud in class, my roomate wouldn't stop laughing. I love sighing. I love the feeling of just squeezing out all the air in your lungs and starting over fresh. It doesn't help all that much, but it helps somewhat and you can really only do things by inches anyways. You can never fix anything *BANG* in one second. I have realized this in my goal to lose 100 pounds. *100 POUNDS!* It sounds so epic, like it should be read by the guy who does the voice overs in movie previews. But the ones where he's parodying himself, so it's even more exaggarated. So far, I have lost 35. Which is pretty impressive to me, since I don't actually feel like I've lost 35 pounds, nor do I feel like I LOOK like I've lost 35 pounds. I also don't think other people think I look like I've lost 35 pounds. Maybe I am one of those people where no one says anything becuase they know I still have a long way to go. At least I'm not dispreportionate. My weight gain is spread pretty evenly over my entire body so I feel like I'm shaving it off in tiny increments. It also means losing it is significantly less noticable. I'm hoping I notice a HUGE difference when I have lost 50, if not I'll be super disappointed because that's a lot of weight to lose without noticing. I hope one day I turn around and I'm like "WOW! My ghetto-ass is gone! SWEET!" and it will just sneak up on me like that.
I was rude to someone at work yesterday and am having residual feeling of anger for them. It's not them specifically, but their kind in general. They are the people that have assumed that because I graduated, I know what I want to do with my entire life. I want to wear a sign around my neck that says "ON HIATUS FROM SEEKING FURTHER EMPLOYMENT". Everyone above the age of 35 has asked me the awful question: "So, what's next for you?" The rest of the conversation is as follows:
Me: "I took until September to not think about it. When September comes, I'll think about my next step."
Annoying Adult: "But what do you want to do?"
Me: "I have no real goals at the moment. I want to buy a car and get a full-time job. I don't really care where."
Annoying Adult, ignoring the fact that I have just plainly said everything I wish to say, and have gotten snarky, fall back on their ultimate weapon: "What is your degree in?"
- Now I'm pissed. If I thought the specifics of my degree were going to lead me down the path of real life, I would have told them all my passionate feelings for my specialty at the forefront of this circular conversation, now wouldn't I? Also, I probably would have chose a more practical degree. ALSO, I find it highly irritating that full-time people at The Grocery Store harange me about my future when they themselves are still at T.G.S. I feel it is a discredit to themselves. In the same way that people are always saying to me 'You have to get out of here, Jess' I feel like saying: "What if I stay! You stayed and, though you hate your job, you're still a good person who is employed, which is saying something since there are a LOT of people out there who aren't and just collect E.I." I won't stay at The Grocery Store because I just can't see myself making enough money to keep me living in the style of which I'm accustomed. But this is a vast tangent and we have left the Annoying Adult hanging, waiting for our answer, which will definitely lead to the Dreaded Question. I can already feel it forming in their mind. -
Me: "I was an English major, with a minor in History and a minor in Women's Studies."
Annoying Adult: "Wow, what are you going to do with that?"
Me: "I don't know yet. I'm going to think about it in September."
Annoying Adult, without FAIL will ask me the Dreaded Question: "Have you thought about teacher's college?"
I have a few options here. 1) Rip their head off about how it's presumptious to assume that all teachers are English majors. Though it's a good base, there are many other majors that can be applied to teaching. 2) Explain in short, prefunctory words, that of course I have thought about teacher's college, who hasn't, but that I don't think it was the choice for me.
Usually, I go with option 3, which is afterall, the truth.
Me: "No. I hate children."
Annoying Adult: *!!*
Everyone wants me to be a teacher. My parents think it would be great. When I ask my mother she says "You'd be so good at it, you have the kind of voice that really carries." As if this is the most important thing to teaching, having a loud voice. My dad thinks it would nurture my inner-self. He's all about that sort of thing. He does it in a good way, but I am not cut out for teaching. I might be a good teacher if I was passionate about it, but I'm not, so what's the point? Also, I really do dislike children. I have a very hard time humouring them, and children need humouring. I'm sure I will love my own children very much, and I love my neices, but children as a general category that aren't related to me can just keep their distance. And, somewhat shamefully, I didn't have good enough marks to get into teacher's college, which is another blunt fact I sometimes throw into conversations where the An.Ad. is being really teacher's college pushy.
The truth is, I'm not passionate about anything. There is nothing that I'm really "YEAH!" about. (Unless we're counting Twilight, but I'm pretty sure I can't turn that into a life-long career. "What are you, Jess?" "I'm A Twiologist!"). When I was further provoked by the Annoying Adult, I became rude and clipped and explained in these words specifically: "I don't want to do anything. I have never wanted to be a doctor or a teacher, or a lawyer, or a poiltician. I am a passionless child." What a sad phrase. "A passionless child." I think I might have a problem that I need to sort out.
*sigh* I'll give it until September.
-Jess-
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