So I have been getting my balls kicked in at work. All day yesterday I had to deal with fixing mistakes that I have made over the passed few months. I despise making these mistakes because it negates all of the good accurate hard work that I actually do. I had tricked myself into thinking that I have been doing good here but then all the mistakes come at one time all on the same day. Error after error poured in. I tried to keep my head up but it really got to me. Because now I have no leverage when I go and try and ask for a raise. I can see it now the look on the faces of my boss as I ask for more money in my paycheck. All the hard work negated, Bullshit my friends. I’m pissed and a little sad. I need to escape. I need to sneak to my next miserable job. The trick will be to get paid more than I do now so that I basically get my raise that I will not get here. But you know what, no one will hire me, that’s the facts. Time to work on my Shawshank Redemption
But my current depression reminds me of a thought that I have been chewing around which is no matter how great you are you will always be reminded of your biggest failure. Growing up my ma was the best cook; every single meal was a home run. Plus she always had it ready at dinnertime. Perfectly prepared ready to eat and some how no matter how many friends we brought home there always seemed to be enough for everyone to eat and enough for my dad to bring the next day for his lunch, mad skills I tell you. But one night she made this meal that every single person in my family hated. It was nasty; the only ingredient that stands out was possibly wet bread. We called it Bam Boody. Not sure if that was really what it was called but that is what my ma claimed it was called the night she tried to feed it to us. No one ate it no one could swallow it, not even ma. She has made thousands of great meals since but every once in a while when we are all together someone brings it up as the worst meal ever. That meal will always come back to haunt the poor lady no matter how many great meals she makes. Curse of the Bam Boody
More whiney and self-pity
I need this cold bullshit to stop. I’m sick of it. Just like every single other person I want the feelings of spring. I’m going on vacation next month and it is suppose to be HOT there. Luckily my wife is around to keep me from slipping into some weirdo depressed state. So I guess I need to stop whining.
Which leads to my last unfocused post.
Do people still meet in dark loud bars? I know at least three people who have met, courted, and eventually married a person that they met through a dating web site. I often wonder if things would have played out different if my wife would have found me on a dating website and taken a chance on me. It would have had to of been her finding me because just like in real life I beleive that women have it easier in the courting process.
I’m just lucky enough that her friend was dating my roommate, without something putting us on the collision course I don’t think we would have ever met if I were approaching her without introduction at a bar that she would have given me the time of day. I was/am mostly a weirdo and probably would have spooked her. Maybe soon I’ll tell you about the second time I met her. … that was ummm intersting
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