FML

What is wrong with me?

If you must know, I will tell you.

I hate my job. I hate being forced to tell people that they can't stay because I know they're only renting a room to do meth or pimp hoes. I hate the fact that my bosses are so freaking nice to me, but at the same time they run a flop house for local drug dealers and prostitutes. I hate giving nice guests refunds because they found a fucking roach in their room. I hate that I can't find a better job because I made huge stupid mistakes when I was 20.

I'm not happy that the only person I want to talk to every single day is busy. I'm not happy that I love him so much that I am unable to give attention to anyone else. I'm not happy that regardless of what he says, I don't believe him. I'm not happy with myself because I am so superficial.

I want a drink. I want Marcus. I want a better job.

It's so fucking ridiculous that no matter what good deeds I do, no matter how many classes I take, and no matter how many degrees I obtain, I will still be judged on something that happened years and years ago. It's not only work. It's life. I can't tell new friends what has happened in my life because 9 times out of ten, they will turn their backs on me.

I am not in the mood for this blog right now...I'm going to vent in other ways.