That’s right I have awesome taste in music, but apparently shit taste in decisions. I don’t have a bad life, I have a family who love me, a few really good friends who I could rely on were they anywhere near me, I have clothes to wear and food to eat. So as I say I do not have a bad life... it is just a little sadistic. Not in the sense that I’m sadistic, that my life seems that way, I have all of these things that I could have thrown in my face and then when you try for them it doesn’t happen. It doesn’t work. It doesn’t get there, and people sprout the same shit over and over, good things are coming, you have to be patient, you have to this and that and try harder and wait longer and all of that.
Why?
I am not an asshole, I can be an asshole, and it comes rather naturally to me, like maccas to a fat kid with parents who don’t care. But I’m not, I try and am good to people, to treat them well, respect them, offer help and give it when it is taken, offer compliments, and advice when the chips are down for my friends and even strangers. So I ask again why? Why did I get fired, the guy who turned up early, ironed, pressed and ready to go. I made customers laugh and smile, joked with them, talked with them, served them with respect, gave them the information they asked for or found it for them if I didn’t know. Did extra jobs and no task was too big. Hell, one night I got a standing ovation from a group of seniors on a bus tour. They literally stood and clapped for me before leaving because I made them laugh and smile and feel good. I entertained them whilst doing my job. I didn’t yell or scream at Karissa when she called me a "little fucking cunt" in front of the entire kitchen staff, nor when she told me I was slacking off, on my second day of working in the kitchen instead of the bar. I didn’t smack Pauline in the face when she talked to me like I was 12 years old for the fiftieth time that day, no I resigned myself to sigh and keep on working and not until she got me in trouble with a customer and broke one of our health and safety laws that I had pointed out to her not 30 minutes beforehand did I tell her to stop. I took all the abuse, all the bullshit, took all the dirty jobs and the heavy lifting, cleaned the toilets, rocked up on my days off when they needed a hand, did everything I could. I loved that job, I loved the work the customers, even the staff when they weren’t treating me like complete shit, but I got fired. Because unlike them, I kept my head down and worked my ass off instead of spending my time bitching about me. That was the very start of the downhill slide into infinity, and not the cool infinity that Buzz Lightyear was talking about either, the bad infinity filled with endless amount of alone and insufferable thoughts of what if, and maybe I should's.
Then there was that 3 week period, where I did in fact get a job that was so mind numbingly boring and bullshit I lasted one whole shift. My own fault I know, but if you had gone from fun and different and relaxed to here put this up your ass and bother people while there eating you wouldn’t have fared so well either. So three weeks. three weeks of wasted savings, of alcohol and days spent locked in my room, of being pissed off at my brother for working so much and not teaching me any of the things I wanted to learn. Three weeks of this slowly starting to creep back into my life. The only upside to some small part of that was the infamous A.P. who during this time realised I was going the fuck home, and called the little tiny bit of plans we had off. Not her fault, i agreed, she was right, but the timing as usual could not have been any worse.
So I shake that all off and come home. Home. For a guy who has lived in 3 different states and both territories, 6 different cities and moved around so much most people don’t believe me, Home is a funny word. At the moment, it’s where ever my parents are, but that is beginning to change which is both good and bad. So I came home, Sydney, the city I love and loath, all of the fun things to do and one friend to do them with. Who I also managed to piss off, but we shall come to that later. SO I tell myself, Lee you are joining the army; you are going to lose weight get fit and get in. Okay, so it starts, I exercise and diet and work myself up to more and more and then we hit the cliff, It’s always somewhere along the road sometimes further away sometimes closer but I hit it and fell off. Like I always do. With a long No and a resounding splat I hit the bottom and go back to no exercise and barely dragging myself out of bed.
Job? Of course, everybody needs money and I hate living off my parents, I'm 20, I should be paying rent and helping out. So I applied. Even got an interview, mind you they forgot I was coming and interviewed me for the wrong job but still an interview and hey I may even get that job. One definite no, one maybe, and interview and a maybe and three left unanswered.
Then during all of this come the rejections, the Return of the first and the mind numbing amount of alone that makes me feel like a junkie has slipped me something while I’m sleeping. As a person I’m often stricken by being all heart and no sense, if I had sense I would run away from beautiful, smart, funny, witty, semi genius, musically talented, crazy women who can make my spine tingle simply by whispering my name. I would run screaming and lock myself in a cupboard until the voices went away and I knew I could go outside again without being involuntarily drawn back to them.
This will be continued when I’m off the phone...
