I actually got to go home this weekend, thank god. It was great. I realize now exactly why it took me so long to leave in the first place. Because its easy. It's so easy.
Addam and I had this discussion when I went home. We're losers. I always talked about other people like dogs when I went home, how much of a loser they are and how they aren't doing anything with their lives. Without realizing all this time, that was me as well. I became a loser while I was there. Charging up credit cards, eating out 2 or 3 times a day, wearing literally nothing but khaki's, polo's, and flip flops every day, and not putting forth any effort whatsoever to become an adult. I kicked it for 6 years. And that's all that mattered.
Yeah, I hated it and I wanted to leave, but in retrospect I really didn't hate it all. I just hated myself for getting so damn complacent. Two bedroom apt. souped up cable, paid for car. Allowed myself to accept mediocrty from myself and others around me. Didn't want to leave. Why should I? I honestly could have lived like that for at least another 2 or 3 years.
The circumstances surrounding this trip were in turmoil becaus I had applied for a loan processor job here in the house of satan. I only did it for money, I had been here for a couple of months, I showed up on time everyday, I knew the job was trainable, and I already knew everyone. I thought what the harm? Yeah, that's what I thought.
Apparently they don't like me back there, they really have no reason to since I don't talk to them really, therein lying the problem i.e. I'm not one of them. The manager of the department is hmm...not my cup of tea. He's one of those boss types who likes to pretend that he's a nice person, make lame jokes with people and shit, but in reality is a huge asshole. For me, if you're going to be an asshole, be an asshole. At least, I'll have a chance to get used to it. He told me during an interview, that he didn't care if I was a superstar, no matter how well I did my job,if I didn't fit in then I wouldn't last very long.And I need to dress older. That pretty much set the tone for the rest of my time here in the Satan house. Life has been hell here ever since. If I got that job, I couldn't go home for Daddy's reunion, and I called him crying when I told him. I've never not wanted a job so bad in my whole life. I prayed that it wasn't offered to me so I can get to go home, because it killed me to let my father down. God is always right on time.
Also, I got a part-time job that I so desperately need, but thanks to the asshole people nature of LA, the HR manager refuses to do orientation on the weekends or during evening hours so I have to call in on Thurs. (convincigly) so I can go to work at my other job.
So what's my plan of action? The financial situation is still bleak, but depending on how this week goes, there will be relief soon. With some extra income coming in, I should be out of the room for rent in about 2 - 3 months. Having my own place with cable tv, even if its a shack, would make a huge difference. And I have some tricks up my sleeves for busting out of hell too.
Keep you posted.
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