Or: The Angsty Emo Middle-class White Boy Blues
I have a college degree, but I live with my parents.
I am too old to fit in with the people I know from college, but when it comes to getting a job, I'm still a stupid kid with no experience.
The one job I did get was a horrible job, and I had to do things so much against my nature that I became physically ill, but I justified it by telling myself that I made enough money and I would be moved to a different department soon.
I got fired.
My parents are supporting me, and I fucking hate it. But apparently I am perfectly content to sit around being broke and unemployed, because I have made absolutely minimal effort to get another job.
My dad tells me that he's confident that I'll make it. He really means that he knows that eventually I'll end up doing whatever he thinks is right for me, because I'm a stupid immature kid and he knows better.
Getting a job would give me the money to try most of the above ideas, but I am afraid that it will take away all the time.
I am rapidly approaching the point where I have more married friends than unmarried. Like I don't already feel out of place.
I am dating a girl now who is leaps and bounds more invested in the relationship than I am, but I am too much of a pussy to deal with the situation.
Instead of trying to solve my problems, I spend most of my time playing World of Warcraft. At this point, I can't even justify paying for the subscription, but I do it anyway.
I am out of shape, but I hate working out the same way that I hate being kicked in the balls.
Every time I start a little project, I get the feeling that completing it would be one step toward fixing the rest of my life. So far, almost every one of my projects has either failed completely or been abandoned midstream.
I know that I would feel better if I went to a St. Patrick's Day party at my friends' place tonight, but I can't even do that. I have to be at church at 8:25 in the morning, because I am ringing handbells.
I could go on complaining for pages, but these aren't really problems. Sure, they're my problems, but in the grand scheme of things my problems aren't shit. I'm not facing eviction or criminal prosecution, nobody I know is dying, I don't have any real justification for bitching this much. But writing makes me feel better, even if it's just barely coherent rambling in list form.
I have a college degree, but I live with my parents.
I am too old to fit in with the people I know from college, but when it comes to getting a job, I'm still a stupid kid with no experience.
The one job I did get was a horrible job, and I had to do things so much against my nature that I became physically ill, but I justified it by telling myself that I made enough money and I would be moved to a different department soon.
I got fired.
My parents are supporting me, and I fucking hate it. But apparently I am perfectly content to sit around being broke and unemployed, because I have made absolutely minimal effort to get another job.
My dad tells me that he's confident that I'll make it. He really means that he knows that eventually I'll end up doing whatever he thinks is right for me, because I'm a stupid immature kid and he knows better.
| I want to: | but |
| take a class on voiceover work | I can't afford it |
| take guitar lessons | I can't afford it |
| write a novel | nobody would publish it |
| write a screenplay | I don't know how |
Getting a job would give me the money to try most of the above ideas, but I am afraid that it will take away all the time.
I am rapidly approaching the point where I have more married friends than unmarried. Like I don't already feel out of place.
I am dating a girl now who is leaps and bounds more invested in the relationship than I am, but I am too much of a pussy to deal with the situation.
Instead of trying to solve my problems, I spend most of my time playing World of Warcraft. At this point, I can't even justify paying for the subscription, but I do it anyway.
I am out of shape, but I hate working out the same way that I hate being kicked in the balls.
Every time I start a little project, I get the feeling that completing it would be one step toward fixing the rest of my life. So far, almost every one of my projects has either failed completely or been abandoned midstream.
I know that I would feel better if I went to a St. Patrick's Day party at my friends' place tonight, but I can't even do that. I have to be at church at 8:25 in the morning, because I am ringing handbells.
I could go on complaining for pages, but these aren't really problems. Sure, they're my problems, but in the grand scheme of things my problems aren't shit. I'm not facing eviction or criminal prosecution, nobody I know is dying, I don't have any real justification for bitching this much. But writing makes me feel better, even if it's just barely coherent rambling in list form.