I'm feeling a lot better today. The vertigo has subsided quite a bit, and I have more range of motion. The medicines are making me groggy as hell, though. Oh, and last night I hit my head on the shower door rail... cuz I leaned forward too much and lost my balance weeeeeeee.... But aside from the bruise on my head, I'm feeling alright.

I lasted through my entire shift at work, too... which is keen. Though, around 2, I started feeling woozy and asked if I could get off the floor (IE run a register--eek). After that, I was fine again. I was getting pissed off that I kept dropping crap (since apparently equilibrium has some effect on depth perception and pressure when you handle things) and I couldn't bend over to pick it up. Every time I wanted to get something off the floor, I had to kneel down, grab it, and slowly get back up. I felt like a retarded Geisha. Probably looked like one, too.

My mom's been calling nonstop to check on me. -_- That's one thing I'll give her credit for; any time anyone is sick, she pampers the crap out of them and makes sure they're taken care of. Though, she did call the doctor at the UTC and tell them I needed something else for my vertigo (which I never asked her to do...) since the motion sickness pills do nothing but make me sleepy. I went to the pharmacy today, and there were two prescriptions waiting for me... neither of which have anything to do with vertigo. =(

But meh... I think it's getting better. I still don't feel any symptoms besides the vertigo, though.

Right then. Woke up with vertigo again... Felt rather shitty to boot. Mom called to ask if I'd like to go to the UTC, so I said yes. Called into work. Went to UTC. High blood pressure... Maybe something wrong with heart? Oh, you had a fever.... fluid in ears... Hmm... ear infection? Given antibiotics and something for the dizziness. Sent on merry way. Eating first meal all day. MmMm pizza hotpocket.

If I lean a bit to the right or left, the room starts doing cartwheels. I know you're jealous.

So, something rather odd happened this morning. I went to bed around 5am (I know, shutup), but bolted upright around 8:45am... with the worst case of vertigo. I opened my eyes and thought they were rolling around in my head, the room was spinning so fast.

Before you ask the obvious question... No, I was not drunk. In fact, can't drink due to the medication I'm on.

I sat there pitifully for a moment before slowly getting up and heading to the bathroom. It didn't seem as horrible if I didn't make sudden movements. Sweat was pouring off my head and arms, indicating even further that something was wrong. My stomach was roaring, I was certain I was going to vomit, but there was nothing in my stomach except acid (which should goddamn stay in the stomach...ow). I was feverish and angry at this weird vertigo that came out of no where, so I did what I always do when I don't feel well... I took a shower. I switched from warm water to cool to cold, but it was never hot enough and never cold enough. After getting out of the shower, I hovered over the toilet again, feeling sure that my stomach would come flying out of my mouth. Then, I took a hot bath. I wound up staying in the bathroom for around 3 hours. After the bath, I stumbled to bed naked and slowly (very fucking slowly) put my head down on some pillows. It took a while, but I managed to fall back to sleep.

I just got up a few minutes ago. Somehow, my hair is still damp. I'm still warm, but the vertigo is not present. I don't particularly feel ill aside from the vertigo's influence on my stomach and the fever.

The question is, what is wrong with my inner ears? I am wondering if I have an inner ear infection and I just can't feel it. Gods, I hope not. Last thing I need is another medical bill.

Oh, and then I had a dream about JH, but I don't think he was JH... I sadly don't recall the details. They were boiled away in my brain pan.

Summer heat needs to DIE. Icky... sweaty... blargh.

Anyhow~ it's journal-fodder time!

Name five things you learned in elementary/grammar school which you retained and apply to every day life:
1. Basic math.
2. Reading.
3. Lying.
4. Making friends/communication.
5. Freedom of thought (be it thinking about spirituality & religions, art, etc.)

Name five things you learned in high school which you retained and apply to your every day life now:
1. Faking a smile/hiding how I really feel.
2. Reading people.
3. (this is sad... I'm having trouble thinking of things) How our government works?
4. Drawing/painting. I drew before, but I didn't really sharpen my skills until high school.
5. Cultural differences--mores and norms and taboos.

Name five things you learned in college which you retained and apply to every day life:
1. Bullshitting.
2. Reading people better with what I learned in communication, psychology, sociology, and anthropology.
3. How to write really bad poetry.
4. The art of insomnia.
5. Placating assholes.

Name five things you learned at any of your jobs (previous/current) which you retained and apply to every day life:
1. People suck.
2. Humanity sucks.
3. I want to move far, far away from people.
4. The customer is 99.9% of the time wrong.
5. Suppressing frustration and anger until I snap and say something utterly regretable. :D

-.- I work long shifts for another 2 weeks. Completely unhappy about it, but... little can be done since I really need money.

Home on lunch again.

I pretty much zonked out the moment I went to bed last night at 11. Got up at 6am for work... despite every fiber of my being wanting to stay asleep for a few more hours. Friday night, I didn't get an ounce of sleep and I worked 7a-4p (just like today) yesterday. It started to hit me around 7pm last night... that, and my stomach was trying to eat it's way out of the intestinal sack. The further into the night it got, the worse I felt. I'm still exhausted right now, but I can live since my stomach is at ease.

I should have gone to bed much much earlier last night to make up for the night before.... But I was pushing myself to stay up for stupid reasons (read: video game).

Doobie doo... 30 minutes left.

So, this semi-retarded girl (I'm not really sure what's wrong with her or I'd use the proper description) grabbed a coworker's ass today... He and I both agreed it was harmless, but I thought he should have at least said something to her to let her know that's not cool. Apparently, another coworker thought it was VERY uncool, and she told a manager. Thus began the filing of reports and so on and so forth.... Whatever happened to communication? I'm not talking about just instances like this, which are inappropriate, but regular shit that can be taken care of in a few sentences. Even instances such as this one require very little attention. There's no need to get paper involved, you know?

You know those days when you wake up... and the first thought that enters your mind is "I feel like ass, I should stay home," which quickly perpetuates into thoughts about wondering if it's psychosomatic or not? Yeah, today was one of those days, so I just called in.

Generally, my gut feeling turns out to be correct, and I either am sick (and it hits me like a ton of bricks) or am about to be sick. This happened a few times while I was in high school and even later when I was working at Best Buy.

Granted, my stomach has been doing the "loopdiloop," as my father would say, for a couple days now... But I believe this is just a result of stress--much like all my other symptoms. However, it would not surprise me if I suddenly start puking said stomach's contents out all over the place in five minutes. Call it intuition, call it whatever you like. Sometimes you just know you're not well, even before you really feel it.

Or maybe I just need a breather before I really do get sick. Who knows?

Yeah, so... having several different managers all tell you something to do is cool. Especially when one of them continually snaps at you.

This seems to be an ongoing thing... and, while I know that "back to school" season is chaotic, there's no excuse for it. Tonight, in particular set me on fire.

Manager 1 tells me to straighten up all day, take care of returns, etc. "Just zone, that's all I'm worried about tonight."

So, I "zone." For hours and hours, I zone and take care of customer after customer... even getting cussed out by some guy who lost his phone, whom I had nothing to do with. Around 8, I'm about to go on my second break, hoping to return and close my department afterward. Before I'm so lucky, Manager 1 asks me to jump on a register... so, I do. I don't mind jumping on a register from time to time, even if it negates all the work I did previously (because I know my department's going to look like shit when I return, no matter how hard I'd worked on it all day).

Around 9, the lines have died down, so I flee outside for a cigarette.

Upon my return from my 15 minute break, I grab my returns from the service desk and head to my department to clean up and close. As I just put away my last return, Manager 2 (who's really a peon assistant manager) glares at me and this cart that has just arrived from the warehouse. "Are you working on this cart?" she asked, with a look of absolute disdain in her eyes.

"No, I just got back to the department. I'm putting away returns and cleaning up."

"Work on this cart," she ordered, as if she were talking to someone with the IQ of a grape.

"I leave in 15 minutes."

"Work on the cart, anyway," she orders again, as if I'm fucking retarded.

To be fair, in the past, I have been told that I should only work on carts of stock such as the one she was referring to if I have the time. I was told that the nightcrew is supposed to stock them, and they are not my priority, especially if they arrive on the floor very late. I actually rather enjoy stocking, as it gives me something to do... IF I'M NOT FUCKING BUSY.

Anyhow, I put away half the cart and tried to pick up whatever random shit customers had managed to fuck up while I was busy elsewhere... and at 10:10, I fucking left, pissed off and stressed out. I caught Manager 1 outside on my way out and told her why I looked like I was about to eat a baby when she asked if everything were okay. That tiny vent did not relieve much pressure. Which is why I'm venting more here....

Fucking retail.

And while all that was going on in my last 20 minutes of work, this woman and her son were shopping. Actually, she was shopping... he was just being a little asshole. And she, of course, was not disciplining him at all. At one point, I felt like telling this darling "Luke" that he was a waste of sperm. I somehow magically refrained.

I wonder if I'll reserve my comments next time.

*edit*

In other news, it appears I have just started my first non-induced period in a year. I guess maybe that medicine I am on is working. Wish it weren't so fucking expensive. -_-

I am home on lunch (yay for hour lunches... I'd rather have 2 thirty minute lunches, personally... but whatever).

When I first started working a couple months ago, I kept little notes and what not so I could begin writing some amusing/brutally honest book about working retail and all the good shit that comes along with it, but that sorta fizzled out and I never started because I never have the fucking time to do anything. I'd still like to.... I just have manage my time better vs. work.

Did I mention that I only got maybe 2 hours of sleep before this 9 hour shift?

4 hours to go.... brain... dying.

Well, somehow, I've managed to last 2 months so far in this crappy job. Day by day, I grow to hate it a little more.

I think a lot about looking into (just looking into, not actually going) different sorts of Bachelor degrees that the recently merged ky tech lcc has to offer. I could always go get the paper work done for my AA, too... but I still fail to see the point in that. They might also pull some random crap out of their ass, telling me I can't get it, anyway ("We're sorry, you need to take one more class of giveusallyourmoneyretard 101 before you can get your degree.").

Ahh... higher education.

Where was I? Oh, right... making a meager living by surrendering all my time to some shitty job. I wonder, really, how much time I'd dedicate to work if I were doing something I semi enjoyed. Would I be as resentful of having to work then as I am now? I tell you, most days... I'd rather lie in bed half the day than get up for anything. Maybe that's just the lack of rest talking.

There must be a happy medium somewhere. The perfect amount of work and rest for me, I mean. Some place without alarm clocks and time clocks. Murr.

Some guy I barely know at work asked "Do you want to do anything tonight?" Well. Nevermind the fact that I would be getting off work at 11pm and it's a fucking Monday... But, also, who the fuck are you? I think my actual response was something of a grunted "Eh," followed by telepathic waves of "You are creepy... I'm putting you in the creepy man file in my head."

I generally like to know a person's damn name and a little bit about them before I go "do something" with them. Call me nuts. For all I know, he could have had cowtipping or playing with his neat train set in mind. Or maybe he wanted to reenact Buffy with his homemade puppets. You never know.

Wow, it's 3am already.

When you work up a sleep debt... after a while, Mr. Sandman sends one of his flunkies from the collection agency. Said flunky then tackles you and sits on your face.

That pretty much sums up my sleeping patterns as of late. I run on 3-5 hour naps once a day throughout the week, then stumble into bed and sleep for 10 hours at some point. Ten hours is not much, really. And the only reason I got up earlier was because my cat was mewling at the door and would not go away. Ah, well. I have to work in 2 hours, anyway.

I should start going to bed earlier, so I can relax before work instead of rush out the door. Murr.

Blargh. I went from having too much time on my hands to not having any at all... And I don't even work full time. What the hell?

Ah, well. I hope everyone had an interesting 4th. I spent mine at work, dealing with people who have nothing better to do than shop on the 4th of July.

Morg's arthritis is getting worse and worse (well, she is ancient...). Her fur's all matted and funky on her back where she can't reach. I gave her a bath yesterday and tried to cut away as many of the clumps of fur as I could. She wasn't happy, but she didn't mind too much. Later on, she tried to jump up on the couch to lie beside me... but she couldn't quite make it and got stuck, hanging by her front claws. She got this look on her face as if to say, "This is so embarrassing," before she finally yanked herself free and broke 2 or 3 claws doing so (she wouldn't let me help, as a matter of pride). Then, she hobbled over to the pillowbed I made her in the corner (basically, it's an old pillow which I wrapped in a towel and put on the floor, so she doesn't have to jump to lie on something soft when my bedroom door is closed. I gave it to her after I saw her lying in the bathroom on some towels). Her hind legs are so arthritic and weak that she waddles when she walks. She's so old and fragile that she barely moved a muscle when the cable guy came over to look at my internet (my cable modem died -.-). That was really odd to see, since she used to try to tear strangers' eyes out. Hell, she didn't even his; she just stared at him and kept on snoozing on my bed.

Today is my dad's birthday, so I got him a few things at work. He gave me his usual, "You didn't have to get me anything..." line. He's 64 now. Man, we're getting old.

It appears as though I have lost some weight in the last few months. I'm not sure if it's due to the medication or if it's simply from working. Either way, I seem to be in Jeans Limbo... my current jeans are too loose, but my older jeans are still tight. The pair I'm wearing right now could be yanked right off my ass without even unbuttoning them first. I tried wearing a belt, but it just bunched them up and made it look like I was wearing a potato sack. Fucking clothes. I'm afraid to buy any because I don't know if they'll fit in 2 months. Is that a good thing or a bad thing?

Ahh... tomorrow is my day off. I think I'll pays some bills, go to the bank, and get a goddamn hair cut... 'cause it's too freakin' hot outside.

If you've ever gone to Myspace, you're probably aware that a lot of people have music in their profiles. I'ma say this to you people: go crawl into a gutter in New Jersey and die. Please.

Normally, I avoid that retarded-ass, glorified meat-market because it offends what few senses I have left; however, a few of my friends have Myspace journals... and if I want to keep up with them, I have to endure all the bs that comes alone with myspace. Probably 85% of the time I'm on my computer, I have the sound on. Call me crazy--sometimes I even listen to music on it! LE GASP. So, when I go to peruse some friend's journal and my ears are immediately raped by some atrocious-full-volume noise... it tends to make me very angry D: So, I gotta listen to whatever song they've got blaring on their site over my music or ventrilo or whatever I have on until I can mash the damn stop button on their site (if it even has one) or turn my volume off.

Conclusion: all your babies should be stillborn.

Okay, so... This guy I work with, whom I never bothered to really learn's name (it's like that for probably 95% of the people I work with), and I were chatting on our way to the back of the store when he breaks off and enters the women's restroom. The. Women's. Restroom. All this time that I had thought this guy was a guy... really a chick.

Okay, in my defense, she looks masculine. She has long hair, but it's more like a mane. No discernable boobs. Stocky build. Relatively deep voice. Carries herself like a man. Basically, it's Pat from the SNL skit. I believe her name is Amy. Manliest woman I have ever met, and I've met a lot of lesbians.

/sigh. I fail at gender recognition.

So, I was looking at this old cd I'd burned a few years ago as a back up... and I found some wav. files of Rask talking. Let's just say that my night got a lot heavier.

Hurray for being wishy-washy and full of shit. Hurray for having to take pills for the rest of my life... just so I can have a fucking period. Hurray for insincts which I cannot fulfil.

I'm starting to get all maudlin when I look at children... and I'm not sure why... it's not as though I want children. I guess I'm just angry at the fact that the choice was taken from me. Children suck. And still I have this SHIT going through my head of how I'd rear a child. It's so ridiculous. I'm not old enough for the biological clock to start ticking, am I? I mean, Jesus, I know that fertility starts dropping off after 27... but if you're not fertile to begin with, what the hell?

In other news... I hate life. I'ma go pretend I'm an 18 year old emo kid and write bad poetry or something.

So, I can think of unhappier times in my life. I've definitely had my share of proverbial kicks to the groin. Somehow, each creeping, sneaky spell has it's own whimsical way of making me feel like the bottom of a urinal in a Public Pool Restroom in the middle of summer. And yet, they're all closely related.

I'd like to think that I am a patient person, but I'm not. I'm just lazy.

I should be sleeping. It's storming and I just finished watching the season finale of Lost.

I've been having trouble sleeping, which isn't all that odd since I've always had sleep issues. Lately, though, I wake up throughout the night... I'm aware, angry, and so tired. I go back to sleep and wake up a few minutes later. Over and over. I'm not sure which is more stressed--my mind or my body. I don't feel social... don't feel like burdening people with my humdrum problems, but I feel lonely, as though no one cares about my problems--whatever they may be. I feel guilty if I allow myself even the smallest moment for self-pity. Others have it so much worse, I tell myself. But I am not others. Frankly, I'm not sure who I am. I was never good at self-realization....

A misanthropist has no business working at the largest retailer in the US.

I want to strangle every stupid mother fucker I come across. Especially the ones with screaming children. And the ones that breathe.

Goddammit. I can't do this shit. The fucking place is so understaffed that I spend most of my shift LOOKING for associates in OTHER departments to help their customers. Me not knowing how to help them get, say, a fucking lawnmower means they walk out the door and the store LOSES business. You stupid sons of bitches just lost 150 bucks because you couldn't afford to pay some sorry fuck under 8 bucks an hour. Congratulations, jackasses. (And all businesses do this... they think it cuts expensese when it actually hurts their bottom line.)

So, let's see... I've worked there 4 days and I already want to quit. My actual job (when I can fucking do it) is not that bad. Running all over the store helping customers find shit in other departments because they can't find someone working in those departments.... that is getting fucking old, and I've only been on the floor 2 days.

And did I mention my awesome (non-existent) training and supervision? Yeah, it's keen not knowing what you're supposed to be doing and just choosing jobs for yourself. That's what I was doing as Best Buy before I quit. Randomly doing shit I think needs to be done while knowing that no one will actually know what I did after I leave is sweet! I could stand in a corner of the store and beat my head against a wall and no one would be the wiser. Who's brilliant idea was it to have me work my first 2 days on the weekend without anyone with me? I can't even fucking answer that because I don't know!

There are 3 people in my "department" including myself. One of them works weekend nights only. The other is supposed to be the department supervisor (I think) and works during the week only. I think she's the one who's supposed to be training me. But... since she and I are the only ones who work during the week, I doubt I'll ever fucking see her. Unless we both work the same shift and no one is in our department for the rest of the day (which would not surprise me, considering I can't find people in other areas with much higher traffic). My department alone should never have less than 2 people working it at a time. The fact that they only had two associates in the department before I was hired horrifies the shit out of me.

So, in conclusion, this job sucks ass and I already have one foot out the door. Oh! And when your piss ant manager of the day actually talks to you after you hunt them down to "check" what you did that day (which you can't even really do when you're being run ragged by neglected customers who browse the entire store looking for someone in a smock) talks to you like you're mentally handicapped, that fucking wins! Maybe it's because only mentally handicapped people would want to work there. I've got underwear older than you, goddammit. Talk to me like an adult and don't call me sweety because you can't remember my name.

/froth

So, yeah... I got a job to hold me over for a while. Not sure if I wanna throw up or slash my wrists or both in one swift motion, but... money is money, right? Even if it costs you your sanity/well-being....

I dunno; it's not like I expect I can do better or I expect something better to come along. I just have this sickening gut feeling that this is going to make me feel worse in general.

I have my schedule for the next 2 weeks. Looks grim, but the shifts aren't horrendous. Next day off is Wednesday.

You are one of God's mistakes.
You crying, tragic waste of skin.
I'm well aware of how it aches.
And you still won't let me in.
Now I'm breaking down your door,
to try and save your swollen face.
Though I don't like you anymore
you lying, trying waste of space.

Before our innocence was lost
you were always one of those blessed with lucky 7s,
and the voice that made me cry.
My oh my.

You were mother nature's son.
Someone to whom I could relate.
You're needle and your damage done,
remains a sordid twist of fate,
now I'm trying to wake you up,
to pull you from the liquid sky.
Cause if I don't we'll both end up with
just your song to say goodbye.

My oh my. A song to say goodbye,
A song to say goodbye,
A song to say,
Before our innocence was lost you were
always one of those blessed with lucky 7's,
and a voice that made me cry.
It's a song to say goodbye.
It's a song to say goodbye.
It's a song to say goodbye.
It's a song to say goodbye.
It's a song to say goodbye.
It's a song to say goodbye.
It's a song to say goodbye.
It's a song to say goodbye.

Placebo/Song to Say Goodbye