You know what, fuck this. I've tried to write out why I am so completely pissed off this fine night and all this shithole computer can do is keep dying on me. It crashed the computer and the browser once each just while I was checking on the other diaries I read here on DiaryLand.
Hell, I can't even check the joblink website until I finish typing this little piece here because that's what made the entire computer lock up last time.
I also retook some quizlet that's supposed to tell me what the likelyhood is that I suffer from various mental afflicitions and I got perhaps my "highest" results yet, meaning I have pretty much everything the quiz covers. Some of that -- I've no idea how much, nor how to learn how much -- is because Sin sustains a special fondness for putting my every flaw up in my face. He'll tell me I'm arrogant...
...maybe I need to get away from him so he won't say hurtful things to me anymore?
But I can't let myself think that! For an hour or more, earlier tonight, I had drive, and conviction, and a want that I was prepared to do my very best to obtain. I've lacked that for years now and I can't let that get away. Think of the kitten, Ree! You want a kitten, right? And you can't have a kitten once you move back in with your mother. You have to be on your own to have a kitten. You can do it!
Yeah. I can serve salmonella on a bun and try not to think about how calves have feelings, too. What a way to pay for the happiness of a little furball -- bvy serving chunks of larger ex-mammals. Yaaaaaaaaaay.
Well, I have to find something.
I had an entry typed earlier that was a grand depiction of the fervor I felt -- then. But the goddamn computer locked up. You know those people who think they're clever for telling others to write in Notepad instead of the online text window? I want to shoot those people. Notepad means shit unless you save your entry after every half-paragraph, because when Windows falls, it likes to take everything along with it. (I save nothing personal on my family's computer. My kid brother found my old diary once and I shall give me no text to paste into Google to find my new one.)
I hate my mother's computer. I should be on my own, but noooooo, I had to agree to see an idiot play with my family on Friday night, which meant I'd have to blow my weekend here to save gas. The play wasn't bad, really, although it was too bawdy for a high school production. I thought only football players got to see underclassman she-crotch. Apparently the whole town gets that now. Which firms my resolve to stay the hell out of here for as long as possible. Those extras aren't even legal yet, for the love of morality. Ack.
*checks joblink in alternate browser* Still down. *curses fluidly*
Well, at least there's something in the pitful local paper. One item. *profanes the print media in general* It's a gas station in my hometown. No requirements listed, just "responsible and dependable". I can do that. It's maybe a little below my skills, since I can actually type and spell (usually), but it's something to do, and I bet it even pays a little.
Luckily, whatever Mom thinks I'm doing this summer, I can still look over the pages for a community college where I hope to take a class or two this summer. Then I can get back into my old uni this fall (unless they still won't take me; then I get my full degree online and write a best-selling novel dedicated the state Board of Regents, because without their refusal to accept my talent back into the student body, I might have gone for my master's and taught high school in-state instead of leaving for Perth).
Um. Delusion of grandeur? Check! *cheerfully*
Shit, this community college has really sucky online class selection. Feh.
Well, I'm not going to be directionless. I've done that and I'm puking sick of it. I have the phone number for that pump that's hiring (um, the gas station, I mean); it's not a fancy-ass job but I bet I don't have to wear one of those insane button-up shirts that I hate. I only wear button-up shirts hanging open over a T-shirt. I can hit the joblink office in my mom's town while I'm here; their listing for unitown will be small, but it'll be something, and I might as well apply for some jobs here in case my psychotic idea for a degree of independence should happen to fall through.
(Random thought: shit, was I supposed to call my dad back? Curse this sleeping in! Can't call him now without irritating him and the wifey-slut anyway. Check later. Yeah.)
Mmm, I've lost my direction for this entry and I ought to hit "done!" before my browser spontaneously crashes again.