So I got a job. I love my job, it is a lot of work, but the atmosphere is completely euphoric. I work for a store that is basically a thrift store for kids. It is not where I saw my self going for a job, but this is the place that called and the one I liked. “Organized Chaos” they will say, but that is basically my life. I mean if any of you guys were to see my room you would understand. I know where most things are and if I don’t then I guess that these items weren’t important enough for me to remember.
This whole growing up thing really blows though. Between work, school and a ‘Social Life’ I see my whole family maybe once a week- it doesn’t help that the rest of us work as well [except for my little sister].
I feel like sometimes I am going to stop fighting ‘Adulthood’ and just give in to the mindless, mumbling of malicious, meaning to life. Picture me in the ocean. Now imagine that I have been there for over a day. I will have the hardest time continuing to float and swim around, but knowing that in the vast ocean, that help or even a shore would be nearly improbable, eventually I would just stop. I would cease. Then what? I die.
I hope I will never meld into everyone Else’s lives.