I’ve been procrastinating on this blog post lately. Or well, procrastinating since Saturday morning. It’s Sunday night at the moment. This was also supposed to be a post about my birthday and my birthday weekend. About how disappointing and depressing it was.
Having two lockdown/pandemic birthdays in a row has sucked. Getting yelled at or getting passive aggressive barbs thrown at me this weekend has sucked. Having few people acknowledge my birthday in real life, in person, audibly, has sucked. Having your work month scheduled out for you for the next month with last minute deadlines has sucked.
Generally, this past weekend and this past week have sucked. I won’t lie, there were times during this weekend when it really felt like I was depressed. It felt like there was no way up. Work has drained me the past few weeks, and I’m not optimistic that it will stop or slow down, no matter what my manager(s) say.
I don’t need the negative energy from my parents to go along with the negative energy from work. I’m in my 30s, why is that so fucking hard for them to understand. If I’m at my computer, at my safe space, why do they feel the need to bother me? Just leave the fuck alone.
I had a one-on-one with my manager last week. From the looks of things, it looks like they will continue with me past my three-month probation. So I’m hoping I can move out by end of May or in early June. Ideally the Victoria Day weekend, but probably the Friday, June 4th to Monday, June 7th weekend. That’s two more months of this bullshit. Two more months of stress I need to deal with before I can get out of here and gain my independence again.
So I don’t know how I’m going to handle the next two months honestly. I’m ignoring them the best I can.
There was a post on Reddit recently that popped up on my timeline:
Ever since reading that post, I’ve been going back to it now and then to remind myself to take care of myself first. That I will the only person who will look after me first. I can’t rely on anyone but myself. I know that might be a sad as fuck thing to say, but I can’t think of anyone who would look after me more than I can look after myself.
I mean, dating in a pandemic? It’s been non-existent. Replies on dating apps have been slow, and I don’t blame these people. It’s not as if we can go anywhere. Everywhere is closed. It’s like adding two more years of anti-progress to my optimal dating years.
I just want to be independent of this hellhole house again, so I can live my life as a full-fledged 30-something adult. May or June, please come faster.