Dunno what to write about tonight. I feel like I’m between moods.
This whole missing bus pass thing is really dragging down my mood. Should have talked about it in therapy today, come to think of it. Alert readers with good memories already know that for me, financial distress is the worst form of stress for me.
My financial situation is precarious enough as is without the addition of $40/week in transit fees to pay.
Of course, I could always buy a monthly pass…. for $124. I have 8 more days of school this month. I would be paying $18/day! Um, nerp.
Of course, this is the modern era of Compass cards. So presumably monthly passes last 30 days now. Or at least, they could.
I have a total of 16 days of class left before the Christmas break, so that would be… $7.75 a day. Hmmm. Might actually be worth it. I’d save a quarter a day plus I wouldn’t have to buy tickets over and over.
Not that I have the capital at the moment, mind you, but it’s an interesting thought.
Two problems I see, though :
- I dare not buy an actual Compass Card for fear of completely confusing The System when it comes time to actually issue my new pass. Bureaucracy is a timid beast and things like that spook it. And when they get spooked, it’s always us mere mortals who end up suffering.
- For all I know, my new bus pass might get to me way before the Xmas break, and that would ruin the math and make the whole thing a loss.
Wow, visual mode has neat formatting tricks!
Anyhow, the point is, this is all taking my money away and that makes me really stressed out and sad and feeling helpless before the cruel and unthinking ravages of fate.
It also bums me out a bit.
So I got that hanging over me, making my blues come home and stay. Plus there is the whole having to work on someone else’s script adjustment that I am still making. So I have some stuff bringing me down.
But I’m getting over it. The bus pass thing sucks but is not fatal. It just means fewer meals at Bob’s or Bon Chaz, and other treats. That’s not good but it won’t kill me.
And the school thing bummed me out for a little while, but I am adjusting to that too. Right now, I am just eager to tackle the project. I could use something to pour my energies into. Something that can use my organizational and motivational skills. I would be perfectly happy to be the one who keeps all the info straight, makes schedules, and so on.
In fact, that’s exactly the sort of thing I find fun. I know that sounds weird, but the world should be grateful that there are mental perverts like myself who enjoy doing what others would find tedious or even mind-crushing.
I like to organize things. Not in my own life, obviously, but as work. I would make a great librarian or archivist. I’d actively enjoy putting books away.
And I like organizing people, too. So maybe that will be my job. There’s going to be a lot of paperwork involved (way more than you’d think, times two) and while I don’t enjoy paperwork the way I enjoy info wrangling, I am not intimidated by it either.
It’s just like accounting. It looks like the problem is its complexity when you look at it all at once. But the answers are generally quite simple and the real problem is having the endurance, patience, and concentration to just keep going when you are so incredibly bored that you want to scream.
You honestly do not need to understand the whole thing. That’s the trick of it. You just have to keep answering the damned questions one at a time, concentrating fully on each one then going on to the next.
The form (or the ledger) holds the full picture together. So you can forget about it.
So maybe I will be That Guy on this production team. The one who does the boring stuff nobody else wants to do. It’s not exactly a creative role, but it would at least make me feel useful, and I don’t normally get to feel that way at all.
I’m that colorful and entertaining toy that you quickly get bored with and stick on a shelf and forget about till the next time you move. When you get it, you think “Wow, this is amazing, there’s no way I would ever get tired of this!”.
But you do, because I wear you out with my colorful, vibrant self, and it’s not long before dealing with me seems like a chore and you just don’t need that kind of draining experience in your life and so you forget me, make excuses, and disappear.
And there I am, on the shelf, waiting, always waiting, for someone to love me.
I suppose that was sort of a poem. Just needs more line breaks.
Anyhow, so the silver lining in this whole five minute film fiasco is that it should at least provide me with a place where I can be of use. I’ve got all these skills and I am using only a tiny percentage of them.
I could be really useful! Honest! I just need the right situation.
And the mental health to find the situation and wiggle my way into it, I suppose.
Still, I feel my good spirits returning after a few rough days. I am bouncing back, and that feels good. I have always felt like I had the potential for soul elasticity and possibly even, dare I dream, irrepressible optimism, if I could get all my psychological bullshit out of the way and get on with things.
Well, this bull shits every day, and who knows, some day I might actually catch up to the backlog (ahem) and be able to stand tall and pure and strong, and embrace life.
An atheist amen to that!
I will talk with you nice people again tomorrow.