I'm currently doing half my co-worker's work because he somehow managed to get a week and a half of vacation leading up to and during a meeting/conference he's been organizing, and he only got (most) of the materials we need together. I now have to find all the missing pieces, clean them up, compile them, and go through the ridiculous process of getting our anal boss to approve them before sending everything to the printer for binding. Tomorrow is going to be hell.
He owes me a really damn good bottle of booze when he gets back.
I'm beginning to miss home again. I reiterate that home is NOT Nevada, but the greater vicinity of California.
I need to stop reading the SF Chronicle. And sifting through its photo gallery for images of familiar places. It's bad enough that I have Pacheco Pass on my wall. It's even making me miss fucking FRESNO. I'm half tempted to stay with my aunt and try to get an internship over the summer at the Fresno Opera or something. Yes, that's right, Fresno has an OPERA. As well as an ORCHESTRA. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, but I really am. It's a big town, but I never considered it to be all that posh. Not posh enough for an opera company, anyway. Wtf.
So yeah, I'm missing it, again. The compact randomness of the cities, the stretched-out roads of the central valley, the vast winding roads just outside of Clovis that run right up into the foothills of the Sierras. They connect to Watsonville, that connects to Monterey, that connects to Aptos, that connects to San Luis Obispo, that connects to LA, that connects to Burlingame, that connects to Napa...
I miss it. And I want it back.
My dad only just found out that I declared my major, and that it's in music, tonight. I told my mom back in March. NO fucking idea how she failed to pass that along to him. Every time we talked I told her how the process leading up to the audition was going. And I told her AFTER I auditioned that I got in without reservation. So...I just don't get it.
Dad's obviously disappointed. "But whatever." Thanks, dad, thanks. Because "but whatever" is how *I* want to perceive my time in college, too.
Fuck all.
...I'm in an extremely bad mood right now.
I hate that my mother wants to call me after midnight every night that I'm housesitting.
I hate that I never cancelled that fucking credit card and am now being charged for not having used it within the course of the year. Watch my credit score go down the goddamn drain.
I hate that I let my tire go flat on Rivermont. A fucking nail went through it. A nail! How did I miss a two-inch nail on the side of the road?? And I hate that because I don't know shit about my bike, I had to take it to the bike store and give them money to take two days to fix it. I hate that the dude writing up my order was like, "You know that bike's too small for you, right?" YES I KNOW MY BIKE'S TOO SMALL FOR ME THANKS FOR NOTICING. BUT IT'S FUCKING NEW AND I'M NOT SPENDING ANOTHER SEVERAL HUNDRED DOLLARS TO GET A PROPER ROAD BIKE SO SHUT UP. And I hate that I'm having to take the bus for three days. I feel like an ass.
I hate that I don't have the self-confidence I had six years ago about my schoolwork. I feel like a slacker, but even when I work my ass off, the best I can do is a B.
I hate that I can't make myself get up in the morning, regardless of what time I go to bed.
I hate not knowing what I'm going to be doing in two years. I have NO idea what I'm doing in pursuing a degree in music. What the hell am I going to do with that? I'm not a natural performer. I'm not going to get work performing. And Russian just makes my life hell. If I were to drop the music major and spent every waking moment studying, yeah, I'd be great at Russian. But that's not what I came to college to do. Wait. What DID I come to college to do? I don't know anymore. So what the fuck am I going to do in two years?
All I know is that I want to travel. I want to bike from the Atlantic to Ocean Beach in San Francisco. I want to roam around Europe. I'd like to live in Russia for a while. I'd like to go back to California afterward. Other than that, I'm clueless. My only passion is something I'm not exceptionally good at, and the one thing I could potentially be great at makes me want to put my head through a wall.
I hate the waiting, this not knowing. I just want to take off. Go now. But I still don't have the money to finance it. I've got some, but not enough. And say I do live in Russia for a while; say, teach English over there for a couple years. Great, then what? Yes, I could just wing it, but that's intensely frightening. I need goals, don't I? Goals besides irresponsibly running around the US and Europe on a bike? I need a career, don't I? I don't have any skills. I can type and tell you when your computer's not working, but that's it. WHAT. Am I doing?
Ohhhhhhhhhmygod I'm bored.
I was meaning to get a lot more done this weekend than I did. It sucks. I still have to do laundry and organize my room. I guess I can do that tomorrow night, if I have enough energy.
And I guess I should make an attempt to sleep now, so can try to get to work earlyish tomorrow. Damn.
I just bought these because I've been NEEDING some cute brown pumps for a while, now, and I love them, but they cut my pinky toes up. :< Wimpy toes. The Lynchburg store was out of 11's. 11's probably would have been better. But dammit!
I'm wearing them anyway. Where are the bandaids?
I should just start cross-posting my livejournal entries, because my audience seems to have shifted.
Any anonymous readers out there I should know about? I'll keep this up for you if you want; otherwise I can see it going by the wayside...because I'm lazy like that. This is turning into a blog I hang onto purely for the loyalty factor, not for content. *sigh*
Pretty. I miss it. Those are the sorts of photos I wish I could have taken while I was still there.
I rode my bike nearly 12 miles today, to work and back home. It felt good. I finally feel like I'm accomplishing something this summer.
My tummy hurts again and I don't know why.
I should go to bed.
