Where is my tribe?

I fucking hate the pickle I am in. The second application I sent off was met with success followed a few days by sucks ass. This week is an open day type thing for a job at a cinema, great. A few problems, I am one of forty eight people invited to attend it what seems like a bullshit decision, because some one could not be bothered to meet everybody individually. It becomes harder when they decide to start it at 10am and finish it at around 2:30pm, due to the fact that I work 7:30am to 4:30pm. Skipping work is impossible at the moment, and not many jobs are on the horizon yet. I presume they'll pop up next month. It's no big loss that I'm not attending the intermosh, they didn't advertise the hours, just as part time. Fucking NEXT put 4 hours for a shitty job and shit pay as part time, someone inform these people of fractions.

Aside from being stuck in a small room, with nigh idiots who listen to shit music for a living, in what seems like a sitcom without jokes and producers who don't like half the characters, so there is a windmill door thing (forgot what it's called) of people coming and leaving. The funny bit, I'm still here.

So where  is my tribe? I want to write, really bad. So bad, I'll choke a kitten for that opportunity. When I'm working I really want to do it. Then when I get home from work or the weekend off, I doss about. At least when I was at Uni, I could talk to people about stuff that interested me, like, films, and thinking about writing.

How do I get out of this funk, I don't know what I want to do. I'm just earning money. That is not fun, I don't like a job that asks nothing creative from you. A blunderbuss of bag eyed, miserable, free coffee vending machine chugging people that actually look down on you because you happen to work in the post room await you. I don't know if success is supposed to taste like that, but this is draining my will to be anything. I am more sarcastic than should be neccesary, like someone overdosing on vitamin D (no, I don't know how this sentence works)

Deadends, full stops and mornings that look like night. How did my life become so?