now

I'm at work and it's fucking ridiculous. Sometimes I just feel sick working here. I mean, I'm doing good things for kids, so that's great and all...but the people I work with drive me fucking crazy sometimes. My boss is racist, sexist, and thinks he's the smartest person in the world and has a dumbass haircut. I probably shouldn't talk to much about this while I'm at work.

I guess I'm just trying to figure myself out and why I quit so many jobs. It's like I get disappointed in myself for spending my time with people I can't stand. It makes me irritable. I don't know. It's a bunch of excuses I guess. I just don't want to have any kind of traditional job where I have to wake up, sit on my ass, talk to people on the phone, dress up, be on the fucking computer all day.

I really need to move into this new apartment. I hope it happens. I can't afford mine at all. I like it, but it was serving as a quick escape from my old apartment which was a rat hole. Now I just don't have enough money and have been broke for about a week now. Broke is funny. It's not so bad I guess. It's been hard not smoking cigarettes for the past two days. I'm doing better than I thought, though.

Jesus, all I want to do today is

move out of my apartment
dye my hair
smoke a million cigarettes in the storage space with the windows open and wind in my face
set my typewriter up in the sunroom
smoke joints and listen to records with my best friends.
would listen to:
neil young
paul simon
rodney dangerfield
patsy cline
abra moore


but....I am here. in this office. with these people. i will dream of other things. other places i want to be. maybe a short story later.