frustratedI mean, what the fuck did I think I was doing, going to a jock school? Cripes. And on top of that, why the hell did I major in English? Couldn't I have at least pretended to be interested in something else? You know, those subjects that all the successful people took? Like commerce? Or political science? Even geography looks good from here!
Why didn't I take my future seriously? I thought that I would be able to breeze though everything on my (so-called) intelligence alone. That was a very dangerous idea, and I'm ashamed to admit I ever harboured it. But I was young and foolish then. Now I'm just foolish.
And now, after all my wonderful travels that everyone wants to hear about (and that I shudder from re-telling, as the last few months in Ukraine were probably the most miserable time of my recent life), I'm stuck here at my parent's house in the middle of nowhere, held hostage by my room. I can't do anything until the room is cleaned up. My interest level in cleaning it up: Almost zero. I've made several attempts at getting on with it, but the lack of space to move around makes the experience something like reorganizing your bathroom closet, but you're trapped inside while doing it.
Why did I have to accumulate so much JUNK? Why did I have so many bloody divergent interests? Why am I so fucking wishy-washy? Goddammit, I'm just like my mother!
So I'm frustrated. The important question is, what am I going to do about it?
Well, first I'll wait a few more days to hear from the library... I must admit I was only half-heartedly looking for work, because I wanted to go back to PEI soon anyway. So I only went for a few things that really jumped out at me. I suck. I'm immature. I know, please don't tell me.
Anyway, after they ignore my application - and they should, for I have almost no customer service experience, and that's what everybody goddamn wants these days (please note that I possess no such negative attitude when I actually deal with said customers, but I guess being a good worker is more than the absence of bad, and I don't have the intelligence, initiative, or interest to compete with the good ones) - and after those fucks at AEON continue to ignore my plea for guidance - as well they should, it's not their job - I'll set dates for when I'm going to PEI. Yes! Anything better than to stay here mired in pointless frustration for a day longer than I have to.
I'll go, and I won't come back until I see something concrete. This will probably mean missing out on the Idol auditions, but who cares? Catherine says I can't sing anyway. And I'm skipping the Canada Corps debriefing, too. It's in Halifax, for Heaven's sake. Since I won't get to travel on their dime, I've stopped caring entirely. There's no point in going, because I want to erase the Canada Corps "experience" from my life.
I'm not going to be held hostage anymore by all these stupid namby-pamby little things. (I could of course come back to Halifax only for the debriefing, but that would look bad. Better to just phone in sick.)
Sophie from my first program got a chain of e-mails going about how everyone is doing. I adore and miss Sophie greatly. Her presence was like carrying a persistent bowl of sunshine. I, and I'm sure everyone else, loves hearing from her.
Her openness prompted many replies from the rest of the group, including one or two people I totally didn't expect to hear from. And there is one person whom I would have expected to type up a lengthy e-mail right away, full of thanks and well-wishes and what-I-am-doing-nows, but he hasn't done so: Me.
And I won't. Frankly, I'm too embarrassed to contemplate such a thing. When I have a job and get settled into something, fine, I'll reply. But not now. It just makes it so painfully obvious that I am so goddammed stupid, especially when I'm contrasted with my more successful teammates. Still, I wish them all the best. I'm sure they know me well enough from before that that's what I indeed wish, without me needing to say it.