Rad Blog.

 

Look a bloggy post that’s gonna be filled with whatever you call it when I go on a tangent.

 

 

I’ve been back at second job and I already am unhappy and looking for a new second job. Isn’t it sad that I admit defeat on looking for a full time job and elect to work two part times? It’s just too darn hard to get one well playing one so two ehh paying ones will have to do. Hey, it isn’t like I’m lazy or anything. I just am playing the hand I was dealt.

 

Anyway, to the point. I work with a bunch of stupid post teens who are too optimistic about their chances out of college and they talk about things as “old.” One topic was music and all. I think I’ve mentioned this once but I saw some person wearing a Fall Out Boy shirt last summer and I said “Hey cool shirt. Fall Out Boy has been one of my favourite bands.” Then they were like “Oh man, I love ‘Centuries,’ it is such a great song.” I was like “Huh? No way, the best song is ‘Saturday’ for sure.”

 

They didn’t even know that song. Man.

 

 

I’ve been listening to songs I dug in 2007 and reading up on the bands and where they are now. They’ve either broken up or changed for the worse. Panic! At The Disco is the only one I’ll tolerate still really.

 

After all this thinking about music, I thought of the kids I knew in high school. Usually, I don’t give a sod what they are up to, but being out of high school 10 or so years now sent my mind to the whole “class reunion” idea. If I ever went to one, I’d see all the kids I used to know either with families or good jobs or both and they’d see me as the same old Chas who graduated with them, minus the Pete Wentz haircut. I kind of miss that haircut in retrospect. My ma hated it so I went with a shorter version of it.

 

I guess I am just worried that I am that kid who peaked in high school like that I’ll never make much out of myself. I wasn’t much in high school anyway so peaking there really isn’t that good.

 

In reality, I’m just a guy trying his best or whatever that means. I wasn’t happy then and I am not happy now. The proper solution would be to change that, but change it to what? I’ve been struggling to figure that out for 10 years so what’s another 10?

 

I guess I’m saying that these transition years suck. I thought those teen years sucked. I thought college sucked. I think these transition years sucks. What’s next? Gonna think my established years suck? Am I gonna think midlife sucks? Am I gonna think retirement sucks? Everything just sucks. Life is pain and it isn’t worth living, but I’m out here trying to make it bearable. I can only envy those who aren’t born yet since they aren’t hit with school and fake friends and bad jobs and uncertainties and inferiority complexes and coexisting with people they hate.

 

You know what? I think I figured one thing out to make me less miserable. I need to find a job that I will hate less than this current one. Step one to feeling less miserable is to cut little things that drown you. Step two is to tackle something bigger that is basically a river.

 

It isn’t that I’m envious of others and their good jobs and figuring out their lives. Nope. It is me ruing my own poor choices and inability to actually be smart enough to pursue where the money is right now. My inability to do simple math is depressing. It really, truly is. It was boring in school so I didn’t try and because I didn’t get it on my first try, I didn’t try harder. I don’t know if trying harder would have helped. It certainly seems like older people like Boomers think that it would have. Oh well.

 

To be clear, I don’t think I’m a failure. I’m in the grey area between “success” and “failure.” To me, that’s even worse than being a failure. I hate this uncertainty.

 

Anyway, I’m old. Bring back 2007 where I was less sad. Actually, you know what? I’ll keep 2017 and take the good from 2007 with me today.

 

At the end of the day, this is my play and I’m the leading man. This act is like the stupid subplot that no one likes and we’ll pick up the good story when the writers get back from being on strike.

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