Skip to main content

I demand satisfaction (or "Duals are hard work". Pun intended.).

So I've come to the sobering realization that I do desperately need a second job. Sigh. That's gonna require me to go a'huntin for jobs again. It's also gonna mean that, once I get said job, I'll have less free time to laze about, jerk off, and otherwise waste my time blissfully.

It's funny--that's actually among my biggest causes for apprehension. I guard my free time like some paranoiac; it's mine, it's my right. But besides that, I so often find myself tired and worn out and burning out on my one job, so how the fuck am I gonna do a second job?!

It's kinda like before, too, where I was scared to get my (current) job because I was so scared of failing. Here, I already have a job, it causes me stress and fatigue, so now I'm worried that not only will I struggle at the second job, but that its added stress & fatigue will fuck me over at the first and second job. :\

All the same, it should be noted that in becoming less wholly and desperately dependent on my one, singular job, that it'll probably take off much of the pressure. It might actually be fun again.

Imagine that.

Also, whether I like it or not, I really have no choice: I have a lot of loan payments to make and I'm just not making them.

Sigh. Why does life have to be so demanding?
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Or just tell me what you think.

Other things that might interest you...

On phases and fixations.

My fixations are powerful, but they can also be maddeningly ephemeral and fleeting. And I hate that; about them and, honestly, about myself. But I’ve never really  asked why I feel that way... I'll commit immense amounts of time and energy and even money to a fixation for a few weeks, maybe even a month or two, sometimes rebranding my whole personality around it, then just...move on. I'm not sure when I first noticed this pattern—if it was always there or if it emerged and intensified over time—but it's been part of me for a long while. And every time I do, I feel such guilt and shame. Who even am I if I can't be consistent, dedicated, substantive? How disingenuous is it that nothing I care about lasts? I’ve always just accepted those feelings; I’ve never poked at them in earnest. If you can’t tell from the recent flurry of activity on this blog, I have been fixated on blogging; I mentioned in a recent post about this blog that I had a compulsion to revamp the whole bl...
Post a Comment
Read more

Oatmeal is tasty.

{slurps up berry-oatmeal-deliciousness} Indeed. I need to work on rebuilding a morning schedule. I can be zombie-like enough that I'll waste a perfectly good morning, and have often slept through many. And, really, it's such a useful time of day.
4 comments
Read more

My new favorite painting.

I, generally speaking, love art. I wish I understood it better; sometimes I can articulate its effects on me and what I think; at other times, that's tough for me. This is an attempt at understanding art, if only by trying to understand my experience of it.¹ The title of this post is a bit funny, tho: "New" is misleading—I first drafted it 6 years ago in Dec 2017, updated it in Aug 2018, and revised it a bit this week (Feb 2024). I'll write more about visual art and my ability to interact with it another time, but here's what I've got for now. So I finally went. There's a show right now at the Phillips Collection on Pierre-Auguste Renoir, my longtime favorite artist, and I went. I got to see more of his work at one time than I ever have before. And I found myself a new favorite painting among them—not just a favorite out of Renoir's work, but perhaps a favorite among all art I will ever see. The exhibit itself explores the story behind one of Renoir...
Post a Comment
Read more