Poop!

Well folks...the night before my first day on the job my good friend 'StatCounter' alerted me to my own mom's presence on this blog of mine. It will subsequently never be the same so don't ever bother reading it again. I will most likely delete it in the very near future.
My mom promised me to never read it and she got caught red-handed. She denies remembering her promise about not reading this blog of mine.
Damn I'm angry! And there's nothing I can do! Nothing, nothing, nothing.

Like a pirate might say "LAND HO!" I am saying "EMPLOYMENT HO!" There are jobs in the not to distant future!! I am soooo relieved! YAY for me.
Once I land on the island of employment my days will no longer be filled with pacing and staring at my walls. Instead I will drink of the sweet nectar of a good day's work. I will receive copious amounts of money in exchange for sitting in front of a computer and doing what I do best. Every week will get my foot in a little bit further eventualy leading to a permanent position I just know. I'll also work developing photos in the evenings and on the weekends to supplement my office job. Oh...happy days are here again...hurrah, hurrah!

I get sooo annoyed when somebody patronizes me. A common method is to say my name at the beginning of each paragraph of spoken observations. As if I don't know that I'm the one being spoken to. Some people are just patronizing by design it seems. Then again sometimes you wonder what kind of person it would take for them to not be patronizing. This gets me going in all kinds of directions such as: if I were whiter would they stop patronizing me, if I were taller would they stop patronizing me, if I were richer would they stop patronizing me, if I were cooler would they stop patronizing me? Perhaps it is being patronized that gives rise to so many of my insecurities. It implies that the person speaking to me somehow thinks he or she is better. In reality, hardly anybody has done all the cool shit I've done with the exception of -c I think. But since I don't have the stature, since I don't have the cool dude facade, since I don't have the whitest of white ancestors I find myself stuck squarely under the sole of some local fuck's shoe a lot of the time. Some local fuck whose never left this city, some local fuck who didn't go to college much less a good private one, some local fuck who happens to be a little taller, some local fuck who's soooo goddamn proud of his German heritage that it permeates his entire outlook on life.