I’m going to be late to work for writing this, and I don’t care.

I am so angsty right now. 

Maybe it’s because I just came off a show, but I am having a really hard time dealing with the reality of sitting at a desk and typing all day instead of singing.

Goddamn it, I just can’t make myself feel better about it. 

It means nothing. It changes nothing. Actually, that’s wrong. It changes a lot. In fact, my job actually ends up hurting people in the long run, what with the whole “suing people for unpaid medical bills” aspect of it. It’s best not to think too much about what happens after I draw up court papers, but this morning it’s all I can think about, and it’s sort of eating my soul. 

I’m so sick of this stupid, brainless, hopeless work. I just plop down with my iPod every morning and count the hours until I can go home and watch Netflix with my peeps. My mind wanders, I barely pay any attention to my work, and I’m still the best person they’ve ever had in this job. That is how stupid my job is. 

I’m going to be late on purpose, and that’s because I didn’t charge my iPod. Yep. I reached into my bag for my keys and there it was, with a little red bar, and I immediately plugged it in, almost in tears because I can’t be there too much later than 8:45 (late as that is) because if I am it’ll mean that I’ll need to stay later, which is much, much worse. But I can’t live without my iPod at work. At least I can listen to some Verdi or something instead of the clicking of keys and the idiodic rantings of all the fucktards that I work with. Blah blah blah I’m 33 and have a kid in middle school and I watch The Bachelor and listen to Josh Groban and eat Cheetos at my desk all day and call Artsy “just so crazy!!!” and make her want to die of sadness. 

I’d quit, but what then? Another job like this one except I might have to wear business casual instead of jeans? No thanks. 

Goddamn it, it’s almost 8:20. 

It’s heartbreaking. It’s just fucking heartbreaking. 

Thank you.

Remember that Alanis Morissette song? That “Thank You” song? It’s kind of a crappy song (sorry, Alanis), but a pretty good idea. I sure do owe a lot of “thank you”s right now.

Thank you, family, for taking care of me. An adult child who can’t seem to make her life work, who takes up your time, energy, and money to follow a seemingly impossible dream can not be an easy thing. How you manage to manage to provide unending support without resentment is beyond my comprehension. I am a very, very, very lucky child who often doesn’t deserve this love. Thank you. Thank God for you.

To my fun time friends, thank you. You make me smile, and laugh, and bring out the joyful bundle of endearing wackiness that is me at my best. Bless you for your energizing powers, for providing me with hugs, big smiles, and giggles. You enrich my life. Thank you.

Thank you, inner circle friends. I know you don’t always get the fun-time Artsy, and I’m really sorry for that. I want to pay you back with laughter and fun, but, as it often is with those we love most, you get the repetitive complaints, the sobbing on the phone, the secrets. Thank you for loving me anyway. Thank you for asking me how I am, and really wanting to know. You are rocks, spread throughout the damn continent, for me to cling to when I feel like I’m drowning. You can’t know what it means. Thank you.

Thank you, Mom, for you. For respecting me when I don’t deserve it. Thank you for taking the crazy, accepting it, and never judging the ramblings of my mind or my heart. Thank you for keeping secrets, for respecting my strange mix of being a complete open book and an intensely private creature. Mostly, thank you for believing in me. You tell me every time we talk just how special I am, how talented, how amazing… and though most days I don’t believe a damn word of it, a little tiny part of me understands that you’re the smartest person I know, so some of it has to be true. For a girl who has always felt a little embarrassed that she exists, this is invaluable. Bless you for that. You are the best human I have ever known. Thank you.

Thanks, faithful blog readers, strangers and buddies alike. You know how I love attention, and knowing someone read something I wrote, however stupid, is nice. Thanks, guys.