Lay-off blues

I love to write, don't get it twisted. I love the idea of transferring all my whoas, anger, happiness, frustration and any emotion onto a piece of paper. It's simplly awesome.

I was laid off my job a couple of weeks ago, and it fucking hurts. Granted it wasn't the best job. In fact, I fucking hated it. But it did provide money to maintain a comfortable lifestyle. My mind, still in the mindframe that has been instilled by parents and capitalist media's concept that having any job is good as long as the money is coming in.

Like I said, I hated the job. I hated everyone at the job. The management is a cesspool of incompetence and bullheaded decisions. There was ZERO communication so, let's say, when I move a recliner from one home to another, only to be told the move back to where I took it, it gets a bit frustrating to the point you want to hit a wall.

They said they're going to call at the end of August, which I don't believe because I already saw the ad in the Chicago reader for my position. AND they had the fucking balls to show the new guy around while I was working right in front of me. I mean, what? What fucking balls on you guys! And when I tried to apply for a direct support personnel, I was told that I won't be offer the job because, get this, it involves documentation. The supervisor didn't even elaborate, and when I try to squeeze an explanation out of her, I only got a smirk and a "no, no". Whatever.

Back to the original point, since I got laid off, I've been a deep funk over finances and shit like that. At the same time, I don't want to take another job knowing that I'll just leave the moment another one pops up. I'm done with the 9 to 5 world. It makes no fucking sense to me anymore. Now, if you found a job you like, good for you. But the rest of us don't have that. We take we get, and we grin and bear it. It's a miserable existence that I wouldn't wish on my enemy's dick.

I let this job bring me down. But not anymore. This day forward, I'm gonna do what I wanna do. Do whatever the fuck I want. Pursue my dreams. If I do get a job, it'll be something I give a shit about. And I'm going to move forward with the writing and music. Definitely got to do that.

This is more of a rant. I don't have a closing paragraph so I'll just say adieu.
Maybe next time, I talk about monkeys and boobs.