Narcissit? Who me?

Friday, August 28, 2009


I am good at getting things I want. And by things, I mean, material things. Even though I have an annual salary equal to that of a domestic servant in Victorian England I still manage to have a nice collection of fine things. When I put my mind to getting material objects I always find myself, eventually, bringing them home. I either spend all the money I have on them, find them at incredible deals, or I get someone else to buy them for me. Getting the things that I want has always been easy for me. It's getting the other stuff that is hard. Stuff like direction, love, career, security, those are the things that have constantly avoided me. No matter how hard I try I can't find these things sitting in a bin with "50% Off!" written in cardboard above. I can't pick them out, and hide them in a store awaiting my return, I can't switch tags, and even worse I can't have my Mommy buy them for me. These are things, important things, that one must actually have to work for. And as anyone who knows me, I am afraid of hard work. It haunts my dreams. I detest it.

So I guess when I am cursing the heavens for my loneliness, my job, and the lack of amazing events in my life, I really have no one to blame but myself. But it is carthardic none the less.

Hard work has always been, for lack of a better word, hard for me. And here I am not talking about actually hard, physical labour, ditch digging and the like. I am talking about my own personal version of hard work. Anything that involves putting myself out there, facing rejection, or taking a leap into unknown territory is what I consider hard work. It is hard work for me to mentally wrap my head around it, I am always finding scapegoats for not doing these things: Laziness, fate, ignorance. Which, I suppose, is why although I long for new experiences I am always faced with a big ol' pile of Ordinary at the end of every day.

But as always I am not going to take full credit. The Universe has some s'plainin to do too.

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