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?

You can't reinvent the wheel, but building a wheel is quite fun. In a metaphorical sense, obviously.

motherfuckers...

So Operation New Job stumbles as I'm turned down at the first opportunity. I'm pretty pissed off. I'm probably going to be stuck in my current job for longer than I can possibly imagine. The people I work with are unbearable morons and I'm losing 10-11 hours for something that will not help me in anyway. I get money. Money is not worth this time.

Fucking cunts.

First and Last

Operation New Job is well under way with an interview later today. I am going to blitz it, murder it.

Operation New Job

So my job sucks, what more do you need to know?

I don't enjoy it. The money isn't enough for the hours I do, and for the hours I have to be up. I find it pointless to do a job that takes 11-12 hours out of my day when I want to do something else.

So it is time to start looking for other work, preferably closer and less hours.

I have seen the evils of temporary work, I have seen the evils of employment agencies. I've made some money, but money isn't the target any more. Although, I'm not making enough.

Time is something, I've come to appreciate. We only have a limited time until we're all dead. Why should I waste it working for idiots and for tuppence?

The temps I have worked with are from all walks of life and intelligent people. It was good, to work with new people every few weeks. If I lived closer, I might've carried on with it. If I didn't have to work with the senior staff, I'd still work there.

My body still currently works there, but my mind does not. I refuse to be dumbed down into the lagoon of what if in twenty years time.

I got what I needed from this job, but if you're treated like shit, then don't say thank you.

The ideal me would be sacrificed if I remained.

I don't exercise as much as I should. I don't write as much as I should. I don't do enough of anything. My sleep sucks.

This is a pep talk to myself.

A funny thing, I've been battling with the idea of dying since I was sixteen and my lecturer unleashed existentialism on us. What I mean by this is worrying about death, I'm over it now. Fuck it, I die, I die. I've got more important things to worry about than that. Such as figure out how to make films for a living without shelling out grands worth on what might be pointless education.

The great thing is I've never tried that hard with anything, so I know I can do anything.

And now I wait for calls about new work, and do something more interesting.

I finished yesterdays moviethon with Red Hill (a must watch)

I start today with 127 Hours, it gets me every time!

You might have noticed, I haven't been doing titles for the blogposts. It's just.. I find it so blasé, you know?