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Read this if you're new (or bored...).
2005-08-06 - 10:12 p.m.
Deconstruction
So I was reading this book on "The Blues" and it suggested sort of micromanaging the blues. Well, that sounds like something I can do. I obsess on things to the pettiest detail all the time, right? Ok, so today I felt like crap, and I quickly micromanaged that I felt like I wasn't respected. Ok. We're getting somewhere. So why don't I feel respected? Well, the idiots at Target, but they're really no worse than usual, so it's more than that. Target itself. I'm sorry. I dont think the head manager of the store gets all that much respect, much less a silly little seasonal cashier. The image. Most of my friends, if they don't have a "real" job, at least have a reasonable facsimile. Post office, bank, law office. Even a lifeguard can be beleived if he says it's just a summer job. Me? I look like I'm stuck. I *feel* like I'm stuck. I don't like feeling judged. And the smirks of people who've never liked me (and if I was a good person, why don't they like me, I wonder...?), and the well-wishes of people who know so little of me as to think I'm satisfied, make me feel judged. I was supposed to be headed for law school at this point, hopefully with a summer job as good as the one my bf has (did I mention he's working two jobs, one career-based, one with some semblance of power, both paying more than my one job...?). I was supposed to be just out of an Ivy League school and maybe headed for another. I was supposed to be following the formula and barelling towards success. I was supposed to SHOW THEM, prove how wrong they were for ignoring me, belittling me, treating me like I wasn't worth the half-breath of air it takes to say hello. They'd see what they missed, and maybe they'd regret, but at least they'd appreciate. I went to a Jesuit school, I'm going to school for journalism (not much prestige or money in that), and I'm working at Target. At best, I'm meeting expectations. At *best*. And people know this, and they feel justified in their treatment of me. Or so I feel. It doesn't help that I might as well have been told to my face by a supposed good friend of mine that he doesn't respect me. Specifically, I said to him, "I don't feel like you respect me," and instead of telling me he does, or getting offended that I could think that, or even saying something disrespectful but well-meaning like "Don't be stupid," he said nothing and ran away. As he always does when losing an argument. It's his way of conceding, of admitting defeat without actually having to admit defeat. So, we have a close to home issue that I can do nothing about beyond saying "Fuck him" and leting it go. If he makes an effort, I will too, but all this happened *because* I made an effort, so I don't see it happening. Cut my losses. (If I had more friends, it wouldn't hurt so much, but you know what they say about friends like that and needing enemies...). Well, that's simple enough -- although WAY easier said than done, and any tips on how to do it would be appreciated. Then I have my complex of redeeming my younger self. Which, intellectually, I can't answer the question of "what do Ineed to be redeemed for?" Well, I can, but the answer is "I don't know, but it must be pretty bad if almost no one liked me, and the few that did didn't bother to say word one to me after graduation." I have no friggin clue what to do about that one, and beleive me I've been trying for YEARS. Finally, Target. Frankly, I think the only thing that will solve that one is getting out of there. Which will happen soon. I just have to keep reminding myself of that while at the same time ignoring the little voice in my head that says "You can't handle New York!!!!!!" Again, easier said than done. Again... help?
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