I’m a collector of many things. Things I like, things I don’t need. Legos, toys, pens, pencils, notebooks, trash, books, thoughts, words, and the list goes on. I don’t do anything with this shit. Stare at it as it mocks me. Stare at it as it reminds me of why I have to what it is I have to do. Remind myself when there is time. There is never any time. I can’t sit still long enough to make time. A million things going on at once and not a damn thing done.
A process I’ve cultivated for no reason at all. My hands can barely get out the words. Broken and hurting from all the work. A thousand cases in three days wasn’t enough. A thousand reasons to not give a shit flooding into my mind. What am I here for? Why do I waste my time? I’m here to serve and I do it just fine.
Two days off and all I can think about is work. It doesn’t think about me. So why can’t I stop? None of it matters. Every day I step into this place. None of it matters. If I just said fuck it. They’d hire someone else and move on. Maybe it is time I do the same? Never wanted anything they are offering. The money sure we all need some form of it. Health insurance? I’m there so much the only thing kill me is them or myself.
Could be worse. Could have to hunt and kill my own food. Make my own clothes. Build my own shelter. Invent my own vices. It could be worse. I could have to learn how to live.
For those of you paying attention… I didn’t get to my post 5 Words I like and One That I Hate this month… I have a draft, but it is shit… I was going to post the draft… Release it from my mind… But the story I want to tell is a story I want to tell… So next month… give it some more time… Ran out of time this month… Work is dragging me under once again… hints the post today… If I can’t give you the post I wanted… at least I can give you the excuse… It seems as of late that I am full of them…
I feel ya. What the fuck are we here for. Preach sistah
LikeLiked by 2 people
My strategy long ago was this: If you have to do a shitty job, at least make sure it’s the highest paying shitty job you can get that is still legal. And I’ve been fairly successful at that.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Lol I like this idea
LikeLike
😉
LikeLike
I’m doing pretty good at that too… Just tired of that shit…
LikeLike
Yeah…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Do what we have to do… Life’s motto… etched into our minds… Had a thought waiting in line today… we spend our lives being told to not talk to strangers… then we get a job… “Make sure you engage with the customer”… “Make them feel like they want to be here”… don’t know where I am going with this, but it all seems odd to me…
LikeLike
We have the power then. They’re not random strangers.
They’re strange, but… Okay still.
LikeLiked by 1 person
haha… that thought came about because the cashier… young… said how are you doing?… the customer… older… went into a full on rant about how great their life is going… starting college… their major… the school they are going too… etc… but it was more of a sad attempt to connect with someone… an odd desperation… the cashier had a look on her face like she learned a lesson… don’t talk to strangers in a strange land… by the time I got up there… all I got was a hello…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yeah, that’s a hard lesson to learn… you have to save your true care for the people you really care about.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes… I think if I had to hunt my own food… I’d die. Although… I have to feed my kids… hmmm… I think I’d learn how to salt meat to keep it “fresh” so I could kill something big and slow and so I would limit my killing… or I’d become a cannibal and just eat arseholes.
LikeLiked by 1 person
haha… do what we have to survive…
LikeLike
Hugs, Layney Bear!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’d go rogue, and hunt my own food, if anyone tried to stick a microchip in me-especially as a condition for remaining in polite society. What’s good for the indigenous is good for me, anyways.
LikeLiked by 1 person
the scary thought is that one day not having a microchip will not be an option… will never be a choice… shiver…
LikeLiked by 1 person