I feel like a douchebag. I need to stop writing blog posts while drunk. Loose lips sink ships, and some opinions are best left unmuttered. I have a habit of opening my big damn mouth when the situation least calls for it. Not sure what the hell I can do about that except manage it and attempt to manage the fallout (which is typically inevitable). Ah well. In the very least, I can assure the five people who read this blog (including myself) that no one who is reading this doesn’t already know my opinions on things. Basically, if you’re reading this blog, you already knew I was going to write it before I did. In most cases, anyways.
Now, getting onto the title of this blog post; This new job is beating the bloody hell out of me. Not to say I don’t deserve it. I do. It’s just excessive. I don’t remember kicking any puppies or kittens, yet here I am, getting the shit beat out of me solely because The Universe™ deems me deserving of suffering. I guess some poor choices on my part are also to blame. Quite a few, to be honest. I should’ve at least gotten some bullshit general Associates degree. I wouldn’t be so much better off right now, but at least I would most likely not be giving myself carpal tunnel on these unforgiving gauges and machines.
I’m pretty much done already. I’ll keep working this job because it’s the only thing on my plate, but you damn well better believe I’m not done looking. Even if I get a permanent spot in this place- I’ll not stop looking until I’ve found something that isn’t killing me slowly. Fuck Obama, fuck this economy, and fuck these times we live in. Things are shit, and I honestly welcome World War III. At least I’ll be too old to get drafted.