Diary of a Wom'n

I just had an interesting conversation with my homie. I was complaining to her how everywhere I turn, everyone has seen and been to places and really living life. I can't believe that I'm consumed with worry and anxiety that I can't even enjoy myself. If it weren't for the little momentary and fleeting joys that I have like hearing a joke or completing a dull task, then I think I would have committed suicide by now. How sad, eh? She said that the reason why we put off things like travelling is b/c we have a heightened sense of responsibility. We put the needs of others first and are concerned about the effects of our actions on others. Very true.

I know I complain about this time and time again but this is my life. I live to work. It's pathetic. Isn't it pathetic? There are other workaholics out there but the difference b/w them and me is that some actually enjoy their job so work is another joy for them. For me it's HELL. I can't stand the stuffy environment, I can't stand the annoying kids, I can't stand the pay, I can't stand my boss's frequent guilt trips (he's worried that I may leave), I can't stand the disorganization, I can't stand the incompetent people, I can't stand the precarious attitudes of the people, I can't stand the leaky roof, I can't stand the getto chairs. I just can't stand it. I'm a fucking donkey there.

Oh god, and then of course when I get home time is put on fast forward and before I know it, all I've done is pay bills, shower, eat, watch TV (sometimes), take care of work stuff, then sleep.

I'm going to go seriously think about the going away thing.

Oh yes, there's a fabulous picture I took at the beaches.