Anonymous
I didn't get the job, as far as I know. They didn't call me, or answer my call. But the blow isn't as harsh as I'd expected, I guess. Talking with Dave about the situation made it seem a little less hopeless. I'll just keep putting my name out there and hope and pray that someone needs me to work for them and soon. I don't know at all what I'll do about money at the moment, but I'll make it through. All this trouble has got to be worth it to get Peter out there.
I did a bad thing tonight. I do bad things all the time, but this was really low of me. I posted anonymously to someone's board. It was a snide, mean, rude, and uncalled for comment from me, no matter how simple. It was hurtful. She hasn't been mean to me specifically, but rather to Julie and my other friends. Despite the anger this puts in me, it doesn't give me the right to deem punishment fitting for her. She does need to grow up, but it's not my place to say so. (Shush, Julie, she doesn't deserve it from me...from you, certainly, considering her actions toward you over the years, but she hasn't done anything to my face that deserved that comment.) And my recognizing it doesn't make it karmically negated either. I'm not going to say I'm sorry, though. I'll just cut it out and leave her alone. It may be as cowardly as the initial act, but it won't hurt her feelings any more and it'll save me a fight.
So, I'm feeling pretty bad about that and the job thing. I've got to keep going, though. Things are pretty shitty, and I'm getting pretty bitchy, but there's got to be some good somewhere. I've got to behave myself when it comes to stuff like that. I forget the deal with the anonymity of the internet. It doesn't make you immune to the stigma of cowardice. To put it plainly, you still look like a jackass, even if you don't sign your name to whatever you did wrong.
Tomorrow is a trip to Bangor, to Bugaboo Creek with my parents in celebration of my father's birthday. Happy Birthday, Daddy! I hope you don't read this!
I worry a little about how Bangor will make me feel. I miss living at the Comfort Inn. (I lived there while I was attending Eastern Maine Community College. Dorm Renovations)It's been more than a year since I've lived there, but at my most stressful times, I can imagine myself back there, and the small freedom it allowed me. I hated it when I first moved in. My roommate went to live with her friend in the other hotel, I was so far from home, I couldn't make friends, and I didn't know if I'd ever adjust. But I did. I found a lot of comfort in the solidarity after a while. I got myself into routines and really loved the place. I made it my own. We probably won't be in Bangor long enough to pass by the place, but I'll probably think about it all the same. I keep thinking, "That must be what heaven's like for me. My own little room with two big, comfy beds; cable tv; free delivery from all the places nearby; and the mall just down the street. Ah, I can't wait." I hope that's what heaven's like.
...I hope I go to heaven.
I've been accomplishing my tasks, though a bit lazily. I should set Peter as a task. I want to have a meeting with Jon soon.
I wonder how Mea's faring.
More on the job front in future posts.
Job...ho!
I did a bad thing tonight. I do bad things all the time, but this was really low of me. I posted anonymously to someone's board. It was a snide, mean, rude, and uncalled for comment from me, no matter how simple. It was hurtful. She hasn't been mean to me specifically, but rather to Julie and my other friends. Despite the anger this puts in me, it doesn't give me the right to deem punishment fitting for her. She does need to grow up, but it's not my place to say so. (Shush, Julie, she doesn't deserve it from me...from you, certainly, considering her actions toward you over the years, but she hasn't done anything to my face that deserved that comment.) And my recognizing it doesn't make it karmically negated either. I'm not going to say I'm sorry, though. I'll just cut it out and leave her alone. It may be as cowardly as the initial act, but it won't hurt her feelings any more and it'll save me a fight.
So, I'm feeling pretty bad about that and the job thing. I've got to keep going, though. Things are pretty shitty, and I'm getting pretty bitchy, but there's got to be some good somewhere. I've got to behave myself when it comes to stuff like that. I forget the deal with the anonymity of the internet. It doesn't make you immune to the stigma of cowardice. To put it plainly, you still look like a jackass, even if you don't sign your name to whatever you did wrong.
Tomorrow is a trip to Bangor, to Bugaboo Creek with my parents in celebration of my father's birthday. Happy Birthday, Daddy! I hope you don't read this!
I worry a little about how Bangor will make me feel. I miss living at the Comfort Inn. (I lived there while I was attending Eastern Maine Community College. Dorm Renovations)It's been more than a year since I've lived there, but at my most stressful times, I can imagine myself back there, and the small freedom it allowed me. I hated it when I first moved in. My roommate went to live with her friend in the other hotel, I was so far from home, I couldn't make friends, and I didn't know if I'd ever adjust. But I did. I found a lot of comfort in the solidarity after a while. I got myself into routines and really loved the place. I made it my own. We probably won't be in Bangor long enough to pass by the place, but I'll probably think about it all the same. I keep thinking, "That must be what heaven's like for me. My own little room with two big, comfy beds; cable tv; free delivery from all the places nearby; and the mall just down the street. Ah, I can't wait." I hope that's what heaven's like.
...I hope I go to heaven.
I've been accomplishing my tasks, though a bit lazily. I should set Peter as a task. I want to have a meeting with Jon soon.
I wonder how Mea's faring.
More on the job front in future posts.
Job...ho!
posted by sweetnfat at 1:59 AM
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