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Apr. 25th, 2008 | 02:30 pm
music: billy holiday

whoa. okay, so it was too much. i've never worked in a restaurant like that. i've fuckin barely ever even eaten in a restaurant like that. it's too bad, because they were willing to form me as a professional server. it feels so pretentious (i forget how to spell that word), so much protocol....i felt large and clumsy and like i'd never worked in a restaurant before. and it was all in another language, en plus.

i woke up this morning having crazy panic attacks, pacing and crying and there was no way i could have gone to that place and worked a full shift tonight.

there were SIXTY (6-0!) different wines on the wine list. wtf?! i am no sommelier.

anyway. i am putting operation job search on hold for a week or two, to get my wits about me. i'm leaning towards housekeeping.

often now, my love and i talk of moving to a nearby ecovillage.


i tell ya, living in a wall tent last summer was a really wonderful, beautiful experience. and it was in a regular campground, so we were surrounded by r.v.'s (one time i saw a man setting up a portable satellite dish on his r.v.). but i like to imagine how incredible it would be to live in a community of people who are commited to building a different kind of future...i imagine it would be tranquil and that i could learn alot...

last night we talked about how we work our asses off just to pay bills. make a little money here and then right away give it to someone else so that we can pay for a roof over our heads to get a good nights sleep to go back to work the next day and make a little bit more money and then give it to someone else to buy food etc etc.

when i was younger, i often thought that i'd like to make my living by just...living. not doing some asshole job to buy shit, but rather grow the shit that i need, or build it or trade for it. it feels like the only fufilling future for me. i imagine working hard in the garden all day with my love, or working on our home or...i don't know...inventing solutions to little daily problems, rather than running out to the fuckin store. i would rather spend my winter spinning wool and making clothes and creating and making love and planning for the next planting season and slowly eating the fruits of my summer labour. i feel like it would be...a hundred times less fear, anxiety, depression...

fuckin anxiety over THINGS. anxiety over inanimate objects and fuckin pieces of paper and metal and plastic and numbers that people give so much worth, for what?

to spend more fuckin money on pills and pot and alcohol to medicate to deaden my journey through each day.


this is not our heritage. it is not our birthright. it's something created to control and pacify and exploit. what if things had gone differently? who do i blame? how do i stop blaming?

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