Frazzled.

I forgot what having a job was like.

Well, I'm only working around twelve hours a week, but considering the fact that my days lately have been school, getting home at 4pm, going into work at 4:30 or 5 and getting home at 8:30, soon to be 9:30 when training ends. Unfortunately, there's no place to take a nap during my break. When I get home, I have homework to do. The days I don't work (Wednesday, Thursday and Sunday) are taken up by youth group, choir and church/homework/socializing (if I'm lucky). And this Thursday there's a yearbook thing in the evening as well and I grow to dislike yearbook more with every passing mention of it. Everything in yearbook is confusing and cliche while pretending not to be confusing and cliche.

Needless to say, I want little else other than to collapse on my bed and not get up for three days. As that's not an option, it's a good thing I get a butt load of free coffee.When things stabilize, I should feel a bit better about everything.With a bit of chill music, many hot beverages and some intense feat of time management, I can do this.

However, I feel bad that I have a constantly frazzled look about me (the amount of concealer I've gone through in the past few weeks is a little ridiculous) and I can't seem to quite put full effort into anything. I don't want to dig myself into the state of being perpetually tired and ragged.

Today dragged on to a painful degree. It didn't help that the weather was dreary and people were especially stupid (my tolerance is steadily lowering for especially stupid people).

One of the only redeeming features of this day was lunch, which I spent at a local coffee shop with an odd assortment of Library Crew, Missy, and the Hipster Youth (Reeves's nickname for the group of hipster underclassmen. He didn't notice the unfortunate resemblance to the Hitler Youth until after it stuck). We had an extended conversation about starting a business called "Buckets of Swag" which sells exactly what the name suggests. However, this one guy (who's probably permanently high on nearly everything) decided out of the blue that "swag" will actually be bull semen. By the end of that fifteen minute conversation, we had an entire business plan, including how it will get so popular that Kanye West writes a song about it and what happens when we inevitably get shut down by the FDA. Also, we probably set a record for the average number of times "bull semen" has been said per minute. Rarely have I been in that much hysterical laughter over complete nonsense. There was also a relatively intense argument of who, between Will and Missy, more deserved the the title of "sloppy white hoe." I should go to lunch with odd assortments of people more often. Amusing things happen.

Another redeeming feature is that I'm finding my way around work more and more. I'm pretty comfortable and I'm actually enjoying being around the people I've worked with. Also, I can do the bare minimum amount to be useful. I eagerly await actually having money from this. Soon. The idea of a steady income is kind of foreign to me at this point in my teenaged existence.

Hearts,
-J-