Still see a kid when looking in the mirror

So yeah, I've basically blown off NaBloPoMoBlaBlaBla...It's not for lack of time or subject matter, I just never stick with projects that I commit to for very long. It's like ADD with a shot of thorzine. Honestly, I've had posts 90% thought out in my head, and just lack the fortitude to sit down at my one processor in the grave desktop to type. That, and I'm addicted to my new bed.

"Big deal," you say...no, really, I can hear you out there saying it (not really, since no one but me reads this but that's beside the point). It's sort of a big deal since I slept on the floor for three months while I saved up for the fucker. Sure, I could have bought an air mattress in the interim, but they deflate so easily and the air inside gets so cold at night. So anyways, yeah, I bought this new queen size pillow top mattress, not because I'm sharing it, tragically, but I'm six feet tall so I finally have room to sleep extended rather than full time fetal position.

In addition to getting this new bed that undermines productivity with it's Siren song, I've been on this big "grow up" kick. You know, actually start acting like I'm almost twenty-seven instead of nineteen. So I went out and spent a boatload on new sheets, duvet (like I really needed that, but now I can sound pretentious when I talk about my sleeping arrangement), pillows, the whole nine yards. And now my bed is rad.

That inspired me to finally go through the three years worth of bank statements, credit card, insurance, cell phone, etc. bills and sort/shred them down to a reasonable amount. Seven hours over three days later, that feat was accomplished with only minor scarring of body and psyche.

I suppose that I should feel some sort of achievement, well probably not since it's pretty day to day shit for most people, but I'm sort of non-plussed by the whole experience. Next, I suppose I should seriously consider finishing my degree so that I can get a "real job," not that my job now isn't real. I work seven days a week, log anywhere between fifty and sixty hours a week, and haven't had a day off in at least six weeks. People are shocked when they ask me if I'm in school and I reply that, "No I'm not, I do this fulltime..." Yes, it's technically blue collar, well really, no collar, since I wear a t-shirt and jeans to work everyday, and yes it's retail. But I'm the second in command, and I'm damn good at what I do.

Sometimes I lament not working in an office environment. I don't appreciate "The Office" as much as some friends, I can't complain about attending buzz-word filled meetings, I don't need a "smart phone". Really, I just want a excuse to wear "nice" clothes once in a while. My female roommate informed me that if I really wanted to, I could find a way to rock real clothes, but my working environment isn't really conducive to shirt and tie wearing. Mostly because that's just not how we roll. Hell, I wore flip flops to work everyday for the past seven months and I only stopped because it's been below fifty degrees in the morning when I walk to work.

The other drawback to an office job is my blatant subversion of authority. Not even authority so much as incompetence. Not that it's a given, but I just don't react well with it. I just don't know if I'll find another job where I can tell my boss to fuck himself to his face on a regular basis and not be fired on the spot. That's just the sort of relationship that my boss and I have. We butt heads on quite a few things, threaten bodily harm frequently, mock each other mercilessly and maintain an air of general disdain. He's the best boss I've ever had.