Gica

Friday, November 16, 2012

The Last of My Brain Cell

"How are you?" is the question I find myself answering quite a lot now a days. My first instinct is to start screaming and showing them the back of my head as I am running away to answer their question. A tad bit too dramatic? I never claimed to be sane, normal, or calm. 

I swear I am going some where with this. Well lately what with working thirty two hours a week and going to school I have been some what stressed. I find myself beating myself up. Because I mean really why take it out on some one else when you can make yourself miserable? Any one? Any one? Exactly my point. I find myself feeling sorry for me. I find myself saying its not fair. I find myself blubbering; these grades, suck, am I not good enough, do I just give up?.  

And at this moment I find myself closer to that asshole I swore I would never become. You know the asshole that has a pretty decent life yet his life is always just sooooo horrible? His life according to him is like a country song. He gets kicked in the head by a mule, his dog runs away, and now he's sitting in a bar wishing his woman hadn't left him. The boss gave him a strike Mean while all could think about is....

You got kicked in the head and have  access to some decent doctors. ok the dog running away... pretty awful. Your woman left you? You at least had some one. Your truck, your house, your running water, heat and food is more than one country combined has and you going boohoo poor me?

Than I stop and think. A fourteen year old girl was shot in the head all because some religious nut jobs don't think girls should be educated. And I'm complaining about waking up in time for class? I go wah wah I got to go to school. Even in this country USA jobs are harder to come by due to the economic stuff. And here I am crying in the toilets I clean that boohoo I wish I was at home sleeping. Yea its cleaning toilets but I have a paying job that assures my independence.  

I have a job, I can go to school with out people harassing me(minus my dad who can't seem to stop pushing me to do math with him; at this point this is harassment to the other side of the spectrum), I have running water, I have food, I have a roof over my head, I have heat in the house, I have a partner who is there for me, and lets not forget my lovely sweetie pie Angus.

So yea in the long run life's not so bad as I some times tend to make it out to be. Cuz really it could be worse. 

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