I wrote a really killer post earlier which blogger promptly deleted.
Blerg.
To sum up a very lengthy post:
I played hookie yesterday during our ninth snow storm. Le Sad Storm remained open despite the icy weather and I decided that I was in no mood to go to work. My head hurt, my throat hurt and the last time I walked to work during a winter storm I face planted in the snow. Face planted. I wish this was an exaggeration but alas, the truth is more painful than my face falling into soft cold snow.
So I called out. Luckily I got on the phone with New Manager (dan), the 20 something year old hipster who is in a band, and told him that I was feeling down. A head cold? A stomach ache? the plague. Cough, cough. He laughed and told me to take it easy, they'd find some way to manage without me.
Sick Day Success!!
I have been stressed and under the weather lately, which has contributed to a very poor attitude at work these last few days. I can not muster the energy to care what my co-workers/friends have to say and spend most of my shift sulking.
It's not easy being an anxious person. I internalize everything. I am aloof and distant and in my head a lot. I do not know how to explain this to people when I do my weird 'disappearance act'. I am a master act it. I hide my feelings like a pro. Unfortunately everyone has taken my sullen disposition as 'I've done something to piss beckett off' signal.
Which to be honest I am a little frustrated with everyone around me, including myself. I am on the heels of my quarter life crisis. In less than a month I'll be 25. Something I am both excited and terrified by. Where the hell is time going. I mean just this afternoon I was watching Blossom on Dvd thanks to Netflix and now I am going to be 25 on March 1st (subtle birthday hint).
I feel so unaccomplished for 25. It's daunting really.
And a lot of times, I feel like the person I want to be and the person I am are so distant from each other that my whole 'congruency' goal will never happen. There are days when I have such a clear picture of my future. Of the confidant, witty, smart young woman I will be. The one with the OK job, the budding writing career, the cute boyfriend who I make breakfast for because it's the only meal of the day I know how to cook. And because I can't bear seeing his face after I've burnt the rice for the eleventh time and he is forced to eat it because he is a nice swell guy. Breakfast is more my forte. I've thought about this a lot.
I dream of my days off spent at the farmer's market and then to a local bookstore downtown somewheres. I imagine the cups of hot tea I'll keep at my desk to drink from time to time on really cold days. I even think about my own acceptance and rejection of real world issues, the spontaneous trips abroad and the pictures I'll take accompanied by essays and stories of my journey.
And then I wake up and I don't feel any closer to the realization. I don't know if I am trying hard enough to make it a reality. And it sucks because I don't really have anyone to confide in about these worries. I don't have anyone to see the progress that I am too blind to realize. And it is hard going to work everyday where McAbs keeps talking about...at this point I don't even know. Just him. Or where Kat plays victim and Blue plays or is stupid.
It's all too much some days. I can't even fake a grin and bear it (Mcabs was talking about something that other day and I was in no mood to hear what he had to say. He got all offended and replied "some how i expected a better reaction from you. you can be so weird sometimes). For that reason I sort of enjoyed playing hookie, even though technically I was a little sick.
I haven't had a day where I took time off from being where I am suppose to be. It's the best feeling in the world and I understand now why Ferris Bueller remains one of my favorite movies of all time. I think the last proper hookie day ( i almost typed hooker. embarrassment abound) was when I bailed on McDreamy's writing class because I couldn't bear the silence. I don't know how I survived that class without stabbing my ears out. It was brutal.
This time around, I spent the day in bed reading a truly horrible/funny/potentially traumatizing historical romance novel. Then I ate soup, and passed out after taking a Tylenol. It was a pretty relaxed day (all of which was documented a lot better in the post that blogger did away with). I'll pay the consequence tomorrow when everyone asks why I called out on Wednesday. I would like to engage in proper Hookie Day however. One not as epic but just as fun as Bueller's.
The last three days away from the world have been stellar nonetheless and I will answer everyone's question of why I didn't come into work that day with a stank eye.
Blerg.
To sum up a very lengthy post:
I played hookie yesterday during our ninth snow storm. Le Sad Storm remained open despite the icy weather and I decided that I was in no mood to go to work. My head hurt, my throat hurt and the last time I walked to work during a winter storm I face planted in the snow. Face planted. I wish this was an exaggeration but alas, the truth is more painful than my face falling into soft cold snow.
So I called out. Luckily I got on the phone with New Manager (dan), the 20 something year old hipster who is in a band, and told him that I was feeling down. A head cold? A stomach ache? the plague. Cough, cough. He laughed and told me to take it easy, they'd find some way to manage without me.
Sick Day Success!!
I have been stressed and under the weather lately, which has contributed to a very poor attitude at work these last few days. I can not muster the energy to care what my co-workers/friends have to say and spend most of my shift sulking.
It's not easy being an anxious person. I internalize everything. I am aloof and distant and in my head a lot. I do not know how to explain this to people when I do my weird 'disappearance act'. I am a master act it. I hide my feelings like a pro. Unfortunately everyone has taken my sullen disposition as 'I've done something to piss beckett off' signal.
Which to be honest I am a little frustrated with everyone around me, including myself. I am on the heels of my quarter life crisis. In less than a month I'll be 25. Something I am both excited and terrified by. Where the hell is time going. I mean just this afternoon I was watching Blossom on Dvd thanks to Netflix and now I am going to be 25 on March 1st (subtle birthday hint).
I feel so unaccomplished for 25. It's daunting really.
And a lot of times, I feel like the person I want to be and the person I am are so distant from each other that my whole 'congruency' goal will never happen. There are days when I have such a clear picture of my future. Of the confidant, witty, smart young woman I will be. The one with the OK job, the budding writing career, the cute boyfriend who I make breakfast for because it's the only meal of the day I know how to cook. And because I can't bear seeing his face after I've burnt the rice for the eleventh time and he is forced to eat it because he is a nice swell guy. Breakfast is more my forte. I've thought about this a lot.
I dream of my days off spent at the farmer's market and then to a local bookstore downtown somewheres. I imagine the cups of hot tea I'll keep at my desk to drink from time to time on really cold days. I even think about my own acceptance and rejection of real world issues, the spontaneous trips abroad and the pictures I'll take accompanied by essays and stories of my journey.
And then I wake up and I don't feel any closer to the realization. I don't know if I am trying hard enough to make it a reality. And it sucks because I don't really have anyone to confide in about these worries. I don't have anyone to see the progress that I am too blind to realize. And it is hard going to work everyday where McAbs keeps talking about...at this point I don't even know. Just him. Or where Kat plays victim and Blue plays or is stupid.
It's all too much some days. I can't even fake a grin and bear it (Mcabs was talking about something that other day and I was in no mood to hear what he had to say. He got all offended and replied "some how i expected a better reaction from you. you can be so weird sometimes). For that reason I sort of enjoyed playing hookie, even though technically I was a little sick.
I haven't had a day where I took time off from being where I am suppose to be. It's the best feeling in the world and I understand now why Ferris Bueller remains one of my favorite movies of all time. I think the last proper hookie day ( i almost typed hooker. embarrassment abound) was when I bailed on McDreamy's writing class because I couldn't bear the silence. I don't know how I survived that class without stabbing my ears out. It was brutal.
This time around, I spent the day in bed reading a truly horrible/funny/potentially traumatizing historical romance novel. Then I ate soup, and passed out after taking a Tylenol. It was a pretty relaxed day (all of which was documented a lot better in the post that blogger did away with). I'll pay the consequence tomorrow when everyone asks why I called out on Wednesday. I would like to engage in proper Hookie Day however. One not as epic but just as fun as Bueller's.
The last three days away from the world have been stellar nonetheless and I will answer everyone's question of why I didn't come into work that day with a stank eye.
Beckett
PS. Yes...I wrote in the snow. It was so crisp I couldn't help msyelf.
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