Up early for The Store. Despite having to work around customers today, the shift wasn’t half bad. This is where I struggle with wanting to leave. Some shifts are absolutely unbearable. The days when you pull your eyelashes out over the buffoonery that is retail. Then, there are the times when I experience a rare moment of positive human interaction, and get to brighten someone’s day. That kind of thing makes me really happy. I’m conflicted on what I should do.

I think what’ll happen with The Store is that I’ll casually mention to Alicia that I’m going to need to scale back on my hours over the summer months. I’ll plant that seed, and then tell her that I’m thinking of resigning. If the Boss Lady says that I can’t have the time off – that it won’t work for her – then I’ll give my notice. If she’s okay with it, I’ll stay. But, fuck me. I need to get a real job.

Lately, I’ve been feeling really down about the whole big boy job thing. It’s now April, and it still hasn’t happened. Fucking April, man! Where has the time gone? And why hasn’t anything been going according to plan? I get it, though. I have to look at the bigger picture. This is sort of a wake-up call that – guess what – life doesn’t happen according to a “plan.”

I just want this struggle to end. I don’t want to have to worry about money, or how I’m going to pay to get my tartar-ridden teeth cleaned. Or the fact that I can’t afford to see a physical therapist for my back, which is sufficiently fucked to hell from my excessive time in the gym. I want a benefits plan! And I want to move. I want a new apartment. There are so many things that I want to make happen in my life, but I feel like my lack of a job and money is holding me back.

Anyway. Moving on.

I finished at The Store, and then stopped by Casa Z. After eating my weight/feelings in chicken fingers, I slept for three hours. Mom had her friends over tonight for a dinner thing, so most of my evening was spent tip-toeing around the house, avoiding them like the plague. I don’t want to be social in my own home!

Very quietly, I snuck downstairs to the gym and did my thing. Tonight was an extra-long workout, because I started listening to Mariah’s Butterfly album. I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve sequenced that album in its entirety while working out. I look back to darker days of yesteryears, and it was the same thing. Lying on the floor, listening to “My All” or “Breakdown” and silently sobbing into my yoga mat.

I feel like my behavior is so self-destructive at times. I know exactly what I want from my life, right down to the smallest detail. I can visualize everything. I have a plan. Yet, it seems that I am consistently doing everything in my power to either avoid achieving those goals, or behave in a way that steers me off track.

Do I even miss Logan for the reasons I used to? Or am I just hung up on the idea of him? It’s the same thing with RX. Two people, both of whom I once knew quite intimately, are now so far removed from my life that all I have left of them is a distorted memory of how we were with one another. I can’t distinguish my fantasies from reality anymore.

I finished in the gym, and after washing up, went straight downtown. Even though it was around 10 p.m., I went for a walk around the neighborhood. I needed to clear my head. After 45-minutes, I returned to the Witch Cave and collapsed on the couch. Once again, I had a list of things that I wanted to do tonight, but instead chose to spend my evening in front of the TV, eating ice cream out of the carton while watching The Nanny.

It’s funny. I compare myself to Fran a lot. Her character on The Nanny, I mean. It’s obviously a very superficial comparison, but I actually find myself sympathizing with her during some episodes – to the point where I almost start crying.

Fran goes on all of these horrible dates. Guy after guy, it’s always a miss. But, she’s doing it because of how desperately she wants to find something real. Something meaningful, and long-term. Meanwhile (*Sylvia Fine voice*), Fran has already met the man she’s going to spend the rest of her life with, but she’s forced to suppress those feelings. Fran has to go through life knowing that, on some level, Mr. Sheffield cares for her, but it’s unlikely that the two of them will ever end up together due to their circumstances. Sound familiar? Did I really just compare myself to Fran the Nanny? Oy.

I’m feeling pretty depressed right now. I masturbated, crawled under the covers, got up, took a Panic Pill, and now I’m about to drift off into a medically induced slumber. I’m tired of feeling sorry for myself. I’m tired of it, but I can’t seem to stop.

I’ll be 26 in two months.

Goodnight xo