Not my time

Holy shit. I haven't written for a week. 

A FUCKING WEEK!

What the hell??

I am realizing how much writing I actually do while at work. 

And since I was at a busier location last week I had no time to write. 

Oh my life is so hard. 

I had to do work at work. 

Good Lord, Reese.

It is hard to find time to do all the things I want to do.

Saturday I had invitations to do the AIDS walk, watch the Ducks game with my family, have dinner with the Bestie, perform at a birthday party as Princess Anna, go dancing with my gay boyfriend.

And I had to work four hours in the morning. 

I obviously couldn't DO all of that. 

I also wanted to shoot my YouTube video, write a blog, go climbing, start editing my video, go for a run after my climb, do some fucking laundry that's laid out all over my floor (I mean, my apartment is totally clean, you should come over & I'll make you a hot beverage.)

I obviously couldn't DO all of that either. 

I had this moment this weekend, this genuine moment, where I thought--

I don't know how to do all the things I want to do and see all the people I want to see and be alone long enough to create all the things I want to create in the number of hours I have to do it. 

Like. 

I genuinely don't know what to do. 

I've been a very overactive hyper social butterfly lately. 

I've seen a lot of friends. 

I've gone a lot of places. 

That sounds ridiculous. 

I'm really not that cool. 

I've just met some new people, in the random artistic ways that could only ever happen in Portlandia.

It's been really fucking fantastic. 

I've been such a busy little bee I've mostly forgotten to miss those two idiots who decided we couldn't hang out anymore. 

Of course Sunday's are the worst. 

I don't know what it is about Sunday's but I always miss Sheldon and I always miss the Phantom. 

It's like they put some hex on me that forces my brain to think about their absence even if I've forgotten them the rest of the week. 

I love and hate Sunday's. 

I've also been busy looking for a new damn job.

My job is fine. 

I actually don't mind it. 

But it doesn't pay for my life.

I literally make less than what my bills are. 

I feel like a dummy for waiting this long to start looking for something else but I thought they were going to promote me & then the money would take care of itself. 

No. The money is taking care of no one. Least of all its self. 

And then I start feeling like an asshole because I have no career and no fucking idea what I'd wanna do anyway.

I just wanna make enough to pay for my life so I can create and spend time with other artists and try and balance my time doing all the things I don't have time to do. 

And then I feel like I'm looking at the whole work thing all wrong and I feel guilty. 

I had two interviews today. 

And they were bullshit. 

Interviewing sucks. 

The interviewers don't know what they're doing. 

They all ask the same stupid questions as though you can really tell the nature and work ethic from the way someone describes "A Time They Resolved A Customer Conflict."

I said something at the end of my first interview that seemed to rub her the wrong way and I wanted to be like, "So that's it, then? Are we done? It seems apparent you're no longer considering me because of your dismissive goodbye."

But that's not really socially acceptable in these sorts of formalities so I just graciously smiled all the while thinking, She doesn't like me I'm not getting the job. 

God!

It's fucking exhausting!

Like going on bad Tinder dates. 

That I had to pay for on my broke ass salary. 

They were a waste of time. 

And I don't want to waste my time!

I want to use my time because I have a lot I want to do. 

It's weird. 

It's weird being stuck in this limbo of transition. 

And then after the frustration of the day all I wanted was to see one or both of their stupid faces. 

What a bizarre beast is human nature. 

Craving the most absurd things at the most unexpected times. 

I love and hate that about nature. 

I seem to be loving and hating a lot lately. 

I feel intoxicatingly alive.