My Friend Is Leaving. Fuck Him.

My best work friend put in his two week notice today.  He got another job last week.

I'm jealous that he'll be leaving.  I want to leave, too.
I'm jealous that he'll be making more money.  I want to make more money, too.
I'm angry that he won't be at work anymore.  I asked him questions about my job so that I wouldn't have to go to my supervisor and ask the questions.  My supervisor yells at you and makes you feel super small and stupid when you ask questions.  My work friend never does.
I'm sad.  I will miss him.
I'm anxious.  He was a good walking buddy during our two fifteen-minute breaks each day.  He gave me a really good excuse as to why I wasn't socializing with anyone else.  Everyone else in this office... is... weird.  And I don't want to do anything with them.
I fucking hate it that he's leaving and I'm not.
And it doesn't feel right to say that I'm made at him.
I guess I'm mad that my situation isn't different.
I want to be making more money.
I want to be doing something I like doing.
I want to be well-rested, rejuvenated, alive.
I want to wake up and have those things be a constant, a baseline, a place where I normally start.
I want to like my days.
I want to like the majority of my time awake.
Right now, I just feel tired and want it all to stop.
And my friend leaving just makes my life a little bit harder.
Fuck.

Message From Work: Stop Helping People!

I work for the government.  I am employed by a Federal office, which is funded by the state I live in.  I tell people, honestly, that I am employed by the state.  However, what I do is dictated by the federal government.

I just got out of a meeting at my job.

Currently, the federal government pays our office to do a certain amount of work.  Imagine a line at the DMV or Secretary of State filled with people wanting to get their driver licenses.  We are paid to go through people in that line, in this example.  If we do more work than that we are budgeted for-- let's say we're budgeted for 100 people-- so if we give more than 100 people their drivers licenses, the federal government must pay us more money.  We have been budgeted to do 100 people in that line.  No more.

Currently, my office is on track to doing more than 100 people in the line.  If we did nothing and continued going as we have all year, not only would we get through all 100 people, but we would be able to handle anyone else who walked in the door between now and October 1st (which is the beginning of the new fiscal year), and get them taken care of, too. 

The meeting we had was to let us know that we would not be paid to take care of more than 100 people in that line.  And if we were to take care of more than 100 people in that line, we would be audited and lose funding for the next fiscal year.

So the best solution, according to my office and the Federal government, is to simply not take any actions on any more people than the next 100 in the line.  We can't close our doors, and we can't tell you to stop waiting for your license.  So you do your paperwork to apply for this license, and then you wait from now until October for something to happen... and it doesn't, because no one is working on helping you.  And what's more, if you ask questions about why you're not being taken care of, you will be told that you are currently being "processed".  And what can you do about that?  Nothing.  And what have you really found out by being told that you're being processed?  Nothing. 

Here's what I'm taking away from this: currently, doing the work needed to be done is possible.  The only reason it's not being done is because the budget-- made up of taxpayer dollars and decided upon by individuals elected into office by the actions (or inactions) of the aforementioned taxpayers-- has not been made to accommodate the needs of the people who are paying their taxes to get a driver license.  And after having their taxes taken from them, and after being told that they will be able to use those dollars to get goods and services their government provides for them, like getting a driver license, they are being prevented from not only getting those goods and services, but they are also prevented from getting any kind of real answer as to why they are being prevented from getting those goods and services.

And it's not like the money isn't there.  The money is there to do the work.  It's just the people controlling the BUDGET, not the actual money.

How fucking fucked is that??? 

Tonight & Tomorrow

Tonight is my wife's final night to deliver papers.

Tomorrow night will be our first night sleeping together in the same bed at the same time in more than six months.

I.

Am Very.

Excited.

What's Wrong With Me?!

My agent sent me an audition notice late last night.  I didn't get it until early this morning.
It's for a movie-- a feature-length movie-- not a commercial.  So I was interested.
The money isn't much.  and the shooting is for 6 days only, so it's possible that it could work around my work schedule. 

And as I think about doing the movie, I start to get really pissed.  Really, really pissed.  Here are some of the thoughts that I can put words to:

Fuckin' movie.  Gotta work around my fucking work schedule.  And they're going to yell at me at my work about asking for time off or asking for altered schedule or for causing a ruckus.  And the goddam movie is shooting over 2 hours away from my house, so the gas is going to be outrageous (which the movie says they will pay for).  But this all sucks!!

I don't understand.  I don't get it that I should get so upset about a stupid movie!  I would think that I would be happy about a stupid movie!  Right?!  So what's the big deal?  They're going to yell at me at work?  They're going to tell me I can't do it?  Fine, they yell at me.  Fine, they tell me I can't do it.  I don't get where my angst and anger is coming from.  I don't get myself.

But I've told my agent I'll audition for this bad movie.  And I'm a little excited about it.  There's just a large, screaming baby on top of my excitement right now, and it's pissing me off.  I'm an idiot.

Storming Through Insecurities

Feeling super insecure today in regards to performing.

I was a professional entertainer for over 10 years.  I have a bachelor's degree and completed two years in a masters program for performance.  I've been on a stage in some capacity since my age was in single digits.  I know that I was good.

And that's the crack-- the small crack-- "I was good."

I look at all these people who are currently performing, and I start to believe that they're better than me.  That it's pointless for me to even do it, because nobody will want to watch me.  No one will want to be entertained by me.  No one will be entertained by me.  I am not entertaining.  I am not good.  I WAS, but not now.  Keep my head down, do my day job.  Forget anything about what your professional dreams were.  That's over.  Embrace this sweat jacket schlub of a man you've become.  You fat, fat, farty fuck.

And yet, there's some part of me that feels really familiar... really comfortable... a part of me that is confident... and it remains confident in this flurry of insecurity... a part of me that persevered in my early days... a part of me that made my roommate say I was like Rocky, in that life would beat me down and I would pop right back up... it's a part of me that's continuing... it's making me do things like find out what clubs have open mics... it's making me say things like "it's going to happen"... it's the one little bit of me that keeps me standing when all I really want to do is lie down... and it's done this for me before... this part of me has been here before... and it's easier to trust this part of me, because it helped me before...

it sucks feeling beaten down
but i'm not giving up
i'm just super insecure right now
but, to quote Rocky...
"...I didn't hear no bell."

Teen Suicide

A coworker stopped by my office today and told me that her son has a friend, and that friend had a girlfriend who shot and killed herself yesterday.  She was 16 years old.  Her boyfriend was one of the first people to find her, still gasping, lying on the floor, bleeding.  She had sent out a mass text: "I am sorry.  Goodbye.  Call 911."  This caused a lot of her friends to show up at her house.  Her boyfriend was one of the first there.  The neighbors had broken into the house when they heard the gunshot.  The boyfriend was the next to arrive.  When he was pulled outside by police and questioned, his girlfriend was still alive, to some degree.  Then, in the back of a police car, showing the officers the texts on his phone, he saw his girlfriend's father crumple to the ground as his girlfriend's mother went crazy in the front yard.  He saw the EMS gurney being withdrawn from the house without anyone on it.  He knew she was dead.  And that's when the cop told him, "I know this is hard for you, but you're never going to know why she did this."  Soon after, my coworker's son received a call from the boyfriend, telling him about what was happening. 

It's hard being a kid.  It's hard being an adult.  Life is hard.  Period.  And sometimes, there's just nothing we can do about it. 

It's hanging on me today. 
Maybe it'll go away later today.
I really hope it goes away later.

Wonderful Wife Weekend

I just had a fantastic weekend with my wife.
Absolutely.
Sparkling.
We spent a lot of time snuggling each other.
A LOT of time snuggling.
And kissing.
And kissing with the snuggling.
And then some more snuggling.
A very real and needed battery charger for both of us.
She got some work done.
I got some work done.
We drove around and listened to music in the car.
Did some work outside in preparation for putting a tarp ceiling over our deck.
We ate some delicious Long John Silvers.
We looked at storage buildings for our backyard, and neither of us was wearing underpants.

Just.
Marvelous.

I could really use another one just like that.
Like right now.