I’m in one of those mid-life crisis in your twenties things. Maybe that means I’m dying at 56. We’ll see how it goes.

There’s a point in one’s life where self-respect becomes a crucial element and I’ve hit it.  It’s so important to me right now that I’m leaping into an abyss and I don’t know where I’ll come out.  I want to write but there’s never enough Time if I must pay bills as well.  That’s never a good excuse.  You should always make Time for the things you hold sacred.  Well, eat it, Time, because you are not easily come by with all other obligations considered.

To write up a quick resume, my current position consists of:

  • Doing exactly what I was told to do, to be chided unprofessionally by a fellow supervisor who tells me not to do such a thing until I advise her to read the daily communications at which point she realizes I was right to do what I did, but out of spite secretly says things behind my back to people who then rat her out to me
  • Being intimidated and manipulated.  E.g. “The Retail Overlord* is coming!  Make sure everything is pristine and true or she’ll give us an A- on our audit!”
  • Feeling like the only person who hasn’t (yet) had all the sense knocked out of her brain pieces through an epidemic of lunacy
  • Working in non-commissioned retail, which would normally be fine, but with the weight and delicacy that might be involved in flying an airplane full of neutron bombs over a field full of cannons (yeah yeah, different examples of war era weaponry, I get it, but this is the truest way to describe it)

*actual names or titles may or may not be used

a forest
It is time for a life change, people.  This is not much of an interactive blog, I realize, but I want it to be.  Should anyone come across it in the next 10 years, remember that I was an attempted good person and that my ashes are in a lake up north but if you should want to visit me, there will be a tree planted in my memory with a plaque beneath somewhere, but more importantly, tell me: If you have escaped a strange rendition of Hell as described above, how did you do it?  How should I do it, and still afford to contribute to the bills and our penchant for eating things to survive?

About Nikki

I've been writing since I was in kindergarten where I Crayola-markered an epic tale of a tiger and a balloon on a stack of lined papers folded into a booklet and stapled along the edge (carefully, and by my teacher). I love DIY, sewing, folksy music, animals and getting out to look at and listen to nature.
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