Fuck fuckity fuck with a fuck on top and a shit in your pants!

For the love of Christ, sometimes talking to my father makes me want to pull my own eyes out!

Last night I flipped my shit while researching (FUCKING EXPENSIVE) alternative health insurance options with my dad when I miserably realized how worth it it is to keep my under stimulating job just to earn the god damned insurance. Papa was silent while I basically conducted an entire conversation with myself about how much I really hate the fucking job with all my heart and soul and about quitting and winging it while unemployed (and being a great deal poorer). I talked to myself about other jobs (for which I have not applied and do not have) and how I basically don't want to do anything at all. I really worked myself into a tizzy. My father remained silent! He wanted me to think it out and make my own decision and some bullshit. I asked him, "Well, what the fuck? You think I'm bi-polar?" to which he replied, "The part that scares me is that you seem more focused on running away from things rather than what it is you're running toward."

EAT SHIT AND DIE! (I don't really mean that. Daddy, if you read this, I'm sorry) Really?!?! You choose to speak with clarity at a time like this!!!!!!!! Uuugh. And he's (kinda) right, he's always (at least kinda) right, that's why I want to slit my throat. He asked me if I hated the people or if I hated doing the job, and the answer was a resounding: THE IMBECILIC, ABJECT PEOPLE. Switch store locations. Problem solved.

FUCK SHIT DAMN. Was it really that easy? As I bitched about on Wednesday October 28, a day job should not make you plan your own suicide. It should ideally be a mostly-painless fact of life, necessary for survival. And, blog-iverse, perhaps I'm fixated so much on my day job #1 because it is that fucking bad right now and #2 I'm not currently working on a really exciting artistic project! STOP NODDING IN AGREEMENT, POP, I know where you sleep! So I should swiftly handle problem #1 and be done with it (and waste no more precious blogging space) and deal with my real plight and passion in life #2.

I HATE YOU ALL.