Taking a page from the book of Mac and posting a song here. It's a good song. I like it a lot.
TL;DR: I'm an anxious, lazy turd who would probably kill himself if not for this one silly project he's so passionate about that no one seems to care about. Also pretentious
I dunno what I'm doing with my life. I mean, I kinda do, but at the same time it all looks like a big bunch of meaningless bullishit. Feels like every day's goal is just to get to the next whilst drowning my brain in hours of in instant gratification, laughable attempts at art (writing a cartoon, more on that next blog, maybe) coffee, slow-release Ritalin and other stuff that I like. It's making me crazy...er.
I've got no job, some prospects (I really, really want to go to school for animation; family is less than supportive for obvious reasons), a slowly shrivelling social life, and enough anxiety to fill a Big Book of Clumsy Analogies.
It's weird, though, because I do love talking to people. I'm not always particularly good at it, but I can do perform fairly adequately during a social gathering (believe it or not). But going out to find a job? Speaking to some I've got zero preconceptions of? Someone who will likely take one look at my bare resume and wonder "why they should hire this potentially psychotic buffoon with more time banked from jerking around at home than doing actual work?" Scares the shit out of me.
Now, that's not to say "there is no hope, all is lost, just drop the bomb already": There's a construction gig coming up, and I'm more than likely to be hired (I have experience, a connection to the higher-ups and they're desperate) for it. Excellent! No more sitting around, feeling, looking and possibly smelling like greasy garbage!
Right?
Well, turns out it doesn't start until the fall!
Dammit. I can't go through another penniless summer! Not after last year...
I gotta get outta this town. This perfectly dull, nauseatingly nice "paradise for all but 20-something's" town, before it's too late. I should really be in therapy, to be honest, but before any of that I need money. Ahh.
Don't usually do these kinds of blogs (especially not at 5 in the friggin' morning; no I did not just wake up), just felt the urge to scrape some of this sludgy black gunk off of my brain and post it on the internet.
i thought i was going bald for a while too, then i thought i was just losing it temporarily due to stress. turns out i just moult like a fucking dog. i think. i hope.
it sounds like you could do with some company to stop you going crazy. i can sympathize with you on that. get drunk with a few friends if you can. if you can't get out and meet up with people (i'm unsure of your situation) get drunk with some friends online. i've done that before, it actually can help. so long as you have talkative friends online, that is.
PS: you're not going bald, man. you're way too young for that shit. gooooooosfraaaabaaa
Posted 05-03-2015 at 10:21 AM byMA Updated 05-03-2015 at 10:23 AM byMA
My mother commented a few times on my "big forehead" and "high hairline". She made sure to say "I don't think you're receding, that's just how it is", but I'm still not sure if it was just one of those motherly observations or if she was trying to tell me I'm starting to turn into my dad. I was most offended about my "big forehead", actually.
Good luck on the job front - I have similar worries, need to find work for next year, which is stressful, but I think I found some studio work, so hopefully it should be an interesting year. There must be a few things you can do here and there just for a few pennies before then, but I don't know. Maybe a lemonade stand, or pull out the rusty old pushbike ready for a paper round?
Only advice I can give is not to consider any job beneath you. If you can get a position at McDonalds, get a position at McDonalds. The hardest thing for people your age to learn, especially those who are pursuing creative arts, is work ethic, and so, if possible, you must always be working. That analysis includes myself, by the way. I was a lazy turd when I was in my early twenties. I was forced to grow up because baby. I have to wonder where I would be in terms of a career if not for Abbey being born.
