Yeah, right .. I was going to update.First I just want to say rest in peace, John Morgan. You were always my favourite Air Farce cast member, even after you left. The funniest thing was how you would be giggling but trying not to during the chicken cannon sketches. I'll miss you. And Jock McBile. And Mike from Canmore.
(Yes, I am saying "you" because I really do believe that John Morgan is off somewhere in spirit reading my online diary.)
Anyway, here's what I wrote in the paper journal at work this week.
Monday, November 15, 2004, 1:00 pm
I'm bored. I don't want to be here. This is not what I should be doing. This is not where my talents lie. I should be writing, thinking, creating. Not sitting in a store for hours on end, waiting for customers to come in so that I can smile cheerily when I'm feeling anything but, and say "Hi there!" and participate in small talk about the weather. Not Windexing the dust off of three million knick-knacks every day. I'm smart. I'm sort of clever. Why am I doing this?
It's times like these that I really start wishing that I'd just sucked it up and finished high school and gotten into university and just worked my ass off, instead of being all miserable and sorry for myself and escaping into my own little black hole of comfortable despair. I'd be done university by now! Or maybe be in grad school. Or whatever I decided to do. I'd be going places. Jesus. I even got into university as a mature student two years back, and I just fucked off and left it again, because I was "confused". Ugh. And now, approaching twenty-four, the thought of spending four years in university working my ass off ... bleh. So I'm taking the odd college course, trying to get myself someplace. I just haven't decided where yet, or if that will get me where I want to be. I just feel like I don't know how to get anywhere in life. I want to feel accomplished at something, damnit. I want to create something. Anything. I want to write. Why don't I? I mean, aside from keeping a diary. It's the only thing I truly love to do, and always have, even if it's a love/hate relationship at times. Why do I keep running away from it? Am I afraid of obligations and deadlines and writer's block? Am I afraid of being rejected? Why can't I just pursue something I want for once? I keep using the "I don't know how to go about getting published" excuse, but how hard would it be to find out everything I need to know? Seriously. I'm closing myself off. It's ridiculous. I need to stop spinning my wheels.
I'm worried about Geri and how her dad is doing. We've just started text messaging each other (yay, I love having text buddies!), and her last message said she was on her way to the hospital. I can only imagine how shitty all of this must be for her. I'd be a complete wreck if one of my parents were very unwell. I feel so lucky not to have been touched by the death or illness of someone very close to me. Even when my grandfather died last year, it wasn't difficult for me because I'd never met him, and he'd abandoned my dad and the rest of the family decades ago. No loss for me. How will I handle it when one of my other grandparents dies? Or worse yet, when my parents' health starts to deteriorate? Not that I think it's going to happen any time soon, but even so. As an only child, I'm quite attached to my parents. I won't have siblings to turn to. It's scary. It's not something I usually think about. My parents are both quite healthy, both far more youthful than their years. God, what if they outlive me? I'd best follow their examples and stay healthy and sharp. We're lucky, my family. We've got some good genes. Great immune systems, not many wrinkles, hair that doesn't go grey, high endurance. Alright, so there's also the type II diabetes, the asthma, and the depression. But those can either be managed or prevented, right? Well I'm not sure about the depression. But my depression is gone. I dealt with it. Yeah, I took meds, but I don't anymore. When I went off them, it felt so good to feel strongly again, to cry at happy/sappy things, or sad things, to feel angry, to feel overjoyed. I don't need the meds anymore because I don't hate myself anymore. It's hard to do anything for yourself when you don't like yourself deep down. But now I know I deserve to be happy, so I don't push happiness away. Well, except maybe with this not pursuing writing thing. What's going on in my subconscious? Do I think that retail is what I deserve? Jesus. Not unless it's my own store, thanks. So yeah, I guess I still have a ways to go, but at least I'm aware of it.
Wednesday, November 17, 2004, 5:43 pm
I've got about an hour before I can go home. Jazz FM is on, and they're doing updates right now. They just mentioned some research that shows that people who get less sleep are more likely to be overweight. People who sleep four hours or less each night are 73% more likely to be overweight, people who get five hours or less are 50% more likely, and people who get six hours or less are 23% more likely. Huh. Interesting, but really, what comes first, the chicken or the egg? Could it just be that the amount of sleep you get is an indicator of how much respect you have for your body, rather than the actual cause of excess weight? Someone who doesn't care for their body enough to get more than four hours of sleep each night probably won't think twice about stuffing themselves with horribly non-nutritious food, either. Then again, some of us just have out-of-control insomnia. Heh.
Yesterday I went downtown, got my hair cut (just a trim), and went shopping for clothes. I came back empty-handed. I'm so sick of all these fruitless shopping excursions. I'm tired of nothing fitting me, or not liking anything I see. Sometimes I just wish I were about 5'10 and had one of those skinny "clothes hanger" figures. It would make clothes shopping so much easier. Don't get me wrong, I like being short, and I even like being, erm ... "fleshy", because once I've dropped some more weight, I'm gonna look like SEX ON LEGS. Well alright, maybe not, but I can dream, can't I? The point is, I'll most likely still have tits and ass, judging by my proportions and past experience with weight loss, and curves are where it's at. I say Renee Zellweger should've kept that Bridget Jones weight on. Have you seen her lately? It's scary. She looks like death warmed over. I hope it's just temporary, for a movie or something. Renee, you were so cute as Bridget. Why are you doing this? Eat a cheeseburger! Yes, I know I'm being an ignorant bitch and that there's insane pressure to be thin in Hollywood but STILL. Ugh, it annoys me that I even care about celebrities' bodies. I'll shut up about it now. But what was my point? *reads back* .. Oh right, being short and curvy/fleshy/chubby/*insert yet another word that sounds better than "fat" here* .. fuck you, I hate that word for anyone who doesn't resemble a beach ball. Yeah, it's tricky. Clothes that fit in length are too tight, and clothes that fit in width are too long. And they don't seem to take curves into account. I still have a waist, damnit! I'm sick of every pair of jeans I try on fitting me in front but having a huge gap in the back where my waist curves in. And don't tell me to just wear a belt, because they don't improve the situation. They just bunch up the fabric. And I'm even more sick of jeans being too long in the crotch and making me look like I have a penis. RRRRRRGH! I should totally open a store for short non-skinny chicks. It could be called "Short and Stout" .. hahaha. No, just kidding, it would have to sound sexy somehow. I'll think of something. Any ideas? Is there a market for this, or am I the lone freak? Surely there must be others like me. Like Janeane Garofalo before she whittled herself down ... or Christina Ricci before she .. did the same thing. ARGH! Damn you Hollywood! Damn you to the fiery pits of Hell!
I did notice that they've recently added a giant Sephora store to the Eaton Centre. *drool* .. I wouldn't even go in there yesterday because I knew I needed to focus on clothes. I love makeup though. I wish it was all I ever needed to buy. Maybe I'll just start putting it all over my body instead of wearing clothes. No wait .. that would be gross.
Friday, November 19, 2004, 1:58 pm
I hate it when a customer walks in and I smile and say hi in a perfectly audible voice, and they either ignore me completely, or just glare at me briefly and say nothing. Not that it happens very often in this store. This is a friendly area. But it does happen occasionally, and it used to happen all the time in my other retail jobs.
Look, salespeople in stores work for PEANUTS, and have really draining jobs for the most part. I'm lucky enough to work in a very low-traffic store with no one watching me and breathing down my neck, but most aren't. So unless a salesperson is being either stuck-up or pushy and annoying, for fuck's sake, be friendly. Or at least civil. Do you really resent having to be polite to them just because you want to look around in their store? Is it that much of a hassle? A simple "hi". A smile. A nod, even. Is that too much to ask? I am NOT a pushy salesperson and yet I get attitude from people. And don't give me that schpiel about how you have to be curt or unfriendly with salespeople so that they'll know right off the bat that you don't want to be hassled. If they DO start following you around giving you the hard sell, THAT is when you say "Yeah thanks, I'm really just having a browse, I'll let you know if I need anything.". Courtesy, people. Please!
Nothing will make you start being kinder to salespeople faster than being a salesperson yourself. Hell, after working at a clothing store for a good while, I now fold my clothes up properly and put them back where they belong after trying them on. Sound extreme? Maybe. But try having to deal with change rooms full of clothes people didn't want in heaps on the floor, all turned inside out, hangers everywhere. Or try being in the middle of helping one customer find a blouse and another to find a pair of pants, while yet another comes up to you unsolicited and dumps a big pile of rumpled, just-tried-on clothes into your arms and says "These didn't work out. Here you go!", and skips away merrily without a care in the world. Geez, it's not like we get tips for running around cleaning up everyone's mess. OK, OK, that's the end of my ranting for now. It just needed to be said.
Back to the present
Yup. I did a lot of writing at work this week. It feels good to be writing again. I feel more like myself. I can't believe that up until a few months ago, I went for at least a year or so without feeling the urge to write for weeks at a time, and then when I did write, it was more because I felt I should write. What was going on with me, anyway? I'll be sure to take a good long look at my life if that happens again.
Heh, with all my ego boosting talk about short and chubby being sexy, I'm having a hard time reconciling it with my hopeless attraction to tall skinny guys. I mean, really. If I were a short, chubby guy who was really attracted to tall skinny girls, everyone would make a big deal about how hypocritical and unfair to women that was. How is this different? I don't know. But maybe it's a Darwinian thing. Maybe some instinct somewhere is telling me "You don't want pudgy midget offspring! You must copulate with tall skinny males to give your spawn a fighting chance!". That must be it. That will be my excuse from now on.
Alright, I think this entry is long enough as it is. I'll save anything else I may feel like saying for later.
Yeah.
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