Something in the Air.

I haven’t posted anything for quite some time, although I have written things that remain largely unfinished. Sometimes I wish this could be the sort of blog where I just say everything that happened to me, but it doesn’t seem like I am able to do that, anyway it doesn’t seem all that interesting. Obviously, my personal life trickles in and I would never say it didn’t. But anyway there you have it. I have a good reason; so I knew that two of my teeth weren’t particularly in working order. Both were chipped and both were turning a bit gray. I was fairly convinced of root canals but when one broke in half the other day and I finally went to the dentist it seemed as if that wasn’t the order of the day. I am not entirely sure how they both decided to rot completely but suffice it to say they were probably too far gone to save. They’re not in the front, but they are not quite molars either, about halfway back just behind the eye tooth. So, Tuesday I had two teeth extracted, and Wednesday I was fitted with what can only be described as a retainer with teeth on them.  I could say a lot of things about this, most of which I will refrain from saying, but I will say this: I am self conscious enough about the millions of things wrong with me without this. I am twenty seven years old, which is either too old to be wearing a retainer or too young to be wearing fake teeth.

I am completely un-hung up about appearances, true story. I don’t notice a lot of things that other people notice. Little flaws in people that others bring up later go completely over my head. And believe me it’s gotten me in trouble once or twice (I really don’t plan to insult anyone by insensitive comments that pertain to flaws I haven’t noticed, but I can’t deny it’s happened once or twice). I have wondered if this is something that is wrong with me, but I don’t know. Anyone’s input would be appreciated here. Anyway, point is this does not apply to me. Every single flaw, and there are plenty of them, is magnified to epic proportions. My nose is too big and bumpy, my eyes are too small and not set back enough, my skin is splotchy, my forehead is too low, my right boob is totally bigger than the left, and we’re not even going to get started on the rest.

Now, of course I know that this is not unusual, everyone is their own worst critic but really, it may be petty and maybe a non issue but, who the hell wants to kiss someone while they are either wearing a retainer or have no teeth?

I have felt, lately especially but in generally, that me and everyone I know are competing for who’s life is worse. Maybe I should say competing over who’s job is the worst, and life in extension. I’ve noticed a somewhat startling trend among bosses, they are mostly idiots. It seems to me like if they were to take five minutes to ask the opinion of the people who need to implement their ideas then everything would run ten times more smoothly. I know I have complained the pants off of The Job, but for gods sake… day after day of doing the most pointless activity known to man is sure to wear on anyone. Really, Thursday is an exercise in futility, doing them same things that I’d done two days ago, it’s just like going through the motions.

Honestly, the only good news is that I now know everything that’s in those damned boxes so the whole process goes a bit faster. I just have to glance into the boxes and then glance on the shelves to see that that most certainly will not fit on the wall.

But that’s enough about me, as I said it seems to be everyone. Now, I would never air anyone else’s personal grievances on the internet but it seems like all around me people are getting screwed over. Whether it’s being assigned to go on the sub-par conference trips, being demoted for no good reason and then have that be trivialized, or be expected to present something that departmentally void and without warning there seems to be something serious in the air.

Talking to my sister earlier today she seemed to agree. I said that corporate supervisors were just power hungry and store managers were just idiots. She said it was possible to be both. And that’s true, really. Sometimes I really wonder how the people of authority get to be people of authority with so little common sense, and the only conclusion I can come up with is that they weren’t always that way. I think perhaps it’s possible that there is some sort of evil organization who collects up all figures of power, puts them in a room, and then forces them to watch Jessica Simpson movies until there are puddles of drool on their shirts and a sufficient amount of brain cells are dead. Actually this might be something to look into, maybe Pterodactyl Man can combat it [If you do not get that reference… see my myspace]. The Time Keeper can be the CEO.

I say that I’m stupid a lot. And there are a lot of times I genuinely believe it, but honestly I know that I am not stupid. In some respects I find myself to be exceedingly clever (and modest too, obviously). There are some things in which I do not excell and those things have stood in my way a lot of my life, but I am not stupid. And when I am constantly treated as if I am by people who I have a sneaking suspicion are… it’s a bit frustrating and it doesn’t make it easier to go in everyday.

Also, my body does not seem to want to get used to these early morning shifts. I thought it would by now. And Pyewacket has discovered the wonderful world of sleeping on my mother’s bed rather than mine, I suppose she likes not being disturbed until a reasonable 6am.

To keep me sane, thank goodness for: Truffle Cookies, The Marvelous Misadventures of Flapjack, Cult movies, October and Halloween, Halloween stores, McDonalds breakfast, morning caffeine, BBC America, Hotel Babylon, text messages, trying to find things to argue about and failing, my mother helping me through Novocaine shots, Dewey’s Pizza, zombie movies, Simon Pegg being the only search that’s brought people to my blog, dark chocolate antioxidants, $5 Mondays at the Cedar Lee, Romantic Poets and their infinite emoness, Keats, Shelley, and this: (je suis clickable!)