Last Year: A Depressing-ass Retrospective
When I’m feeling down in the dumps about any bit of ephemera (perpetual singlehood, questionable financial state, non-bombshell looks), I have to look back on last year to put things into perspective.
Last year saw me being booted from the place my ex and I had shared, and having to look for an apartment with a worrisome credit report and not a lot of moolah to spend. In fact, a year ago this past weekend I moved into my cursed li’l apartment on “Treasure” Island. Did I mention that the decision to drop the bomb on Hiroshima was made at the military base on that island?
If there’s a seven year itch when it comes to relationships, there must be a six year one when it comes to workplaces. Every morning when I board the bus, I feel like I’m getting on the bus headed for the state penitentiary. My co-worker Pia and I whine everyday about wanting to leave early. And lately, weekends seem pitifully short compared to the lengthy workweeks.
I’m grateful to have a job and everything. I just don’t want to work.
