Yes I Remember

This is what I feel like everyday...

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Oh, the 90's.

Beer Me, I'm Irish Mix

To honor St. Patrick's Day...obviously, a bunch of drinking songs. I'll probably hear "Red Solo Cup" eight million times at the bar tonight, but I'd rather hear these...

1. Beer Is Good - PsychoStick (so good)
2. Kiss Me, I'm Shitfaced - Dropkick Murphys (So kiss me, I'm shitfaced, I'm soaked, I'm soiled and brown)
3. Beer - Reel Big Fish
4. Drink - They Might Be Giants (let's drink! drink! This town is so great!)
5. Streams of Whiskey - The Pogues
6. Alcohol - Barenaked Ladies
7. Another Irish Drinking Song - Da Vinci's Notebook
8. Too Drunk To Fuck - Dead Kennedys
9. Fuck You, I'm Drunk - Bondo (and I'm going to be drunk 'til the next time I'm drunk!)
10. Beer, Beer, Beer - Flogging Molly
11. Who Spilt My Beer? - The Adicts
12. Beercan - Beck
13. Tubthumping - Chumbawumba (pissing the night away...)
14. Hooray For Beer - Bowling For Soup
15. Cigarettes & Alcohol - Oasis
16. Pretty Fucked Up - Faster Pussycat (she used to be pretty, but now she's just pretty fucked up)
17. Have A Drink On Me - AC/DC
18. Wasted - Black Flag
19. Alcohol - Gogol Bordello (a love ballad...to alcohol)

Expectations

Last night was...interesting. Okay, not really, but it did deviate slightly from the norm. By that I mean my car is stuck on some snow/ice. I spent 20 or so minutes trying to shovel my way out, only to find that the snow I needed to get rid of was underneath my car. I was not moving. Luckily a co-worker hadn't gone to sleep yet, so she took me to work.

Cooler truck comes on Thursdays, so I spent the majority of my shift organizing that pile of crap. Because it was a disaster. To be perfectly honest, I actively discourage everyone else from organizing in there because they all suck at it. I like everything to be where I like it. Also it just makes everything 1000 times more consistently in the same place. New people come in and think they can just throw shit wherever, but then it's harder to find and therefore stupid. Sorry, just my organizational OCD (anal retentive self-superiority) kicking in. I know nobody really cares about this, but I have a system and it is awesome. Don't fuck with my system.

Anyway, so I spend the night dealing with that shit-fest, and then get the breakfast items ready, deal with customers, do some of the books. My boss comes in miffy that I didn't get all of the books done. I did half of them, but apparently that is not good enough. All I can feel is indignation. Last time I checked, I am not a manager of any sort. I don't need to do the books, I do them so I can get out of work on time. Otherwise she makes me stay for however goddamned long it takes her to do them. So, it's not like I expect her to thank me when I do them, I would just like to not get bitched at for not doing something I don't have to do in the first place. Would that be too much to ask? Apparently.

So I guess the moral of this story is, don't do things. Not even if you're paid for them. Because then you are the target of expectations. Also, don't get your car stuck on a snowbank that turns to ice, it's a pain in the ass.

The Exhausting Borg

I am not a technologically advanced person. That's not to say I'm totally perplexed by it all, I'm just not that great at it. For example, all the social platforms (facebook, twitter, g+, tumblr) sort of exhaust me. I don't know if anyone else my age feels this way, but in this computer heavy era I feel obligated to bone up on the social mediums. I feel like this might come in handy later in life when I have something to use them all for, but right now it's just a bit pointless and tiring. I feel it's my duty in some way to read all my feeds, to update, to be informed...and it's making me hate everything.

Everything.

The burden of the information era is knowing so little of consequence. It all has to be known. Why? Why do I need to know? I don't particularly care, so what's the point of it all? Currently it's just acting as a filler. I mean, I don't really do anything like go to school or talk to people, so I suppose it inhabits that space. That space that isn't all about me. The "me" space is my blogs...of which I have far too many(much?). But I can't really help that, I've always been far too introspective and I don't necessarily mind that.

I'm just having a spot of trouble juggling all of this technology. I feel like the internet is the Borg, processing and organizing, analyzing but never really feeling. I am a part of this vast network of collected peoples and resistance is futile. Negotiation is irrelevant, I will be assimilated. I already am.

Le Tired, Like, Emotionally

I am so tired. Like, emotionally more than physically...but my emotions don't really respond to caffeine quite the same way my body does. So there's that. I've just finished working a bunch of days in a row. I hate working more than 3 days in a row. I know that sounds pathetic to all you people with normal jobs, but I've been a part-timer for basically my whole working life. So working everyday is just not what I do. Add to the frustration the fact that half those shifts were not my own, but rather due to cowhorekers being sickly, flaky, or pussies, and I'm just ready to burn the place down.

Luckily, I now have 3 days off. I was thinking about doing productive things, but I'll probably just lie about watching Netflix so I don't have to deal with the world. Maybe draw something, if an idea of what to draw ever enters my head. I haven't really told many people this (mostly b/c I attempt this every other year and it never goes anywhere) but I'm trying (once again) to get a comic going. I mean, the end goal is to make it into a web-comic and be generally awesome like that. The reality is...4 pages of drawings and I'm hitting a wall. This is usually when I switch my focus to another artistic endeavor that goes nowhere, and etc...until eventually I forget where the comic even is.

But this time, I feel like it could go somewhere. Possibly, maybe. And I want to see where that somewhere is. Over the rainbow? Probably not, but the thought gives me this tiny flutter in my chest that I dimly recall  hope and excitement feeling like. Or indigestion? Whatever. I'm going to keep chugging on with this one. It's just that being creative is so hard! I mean it's awesome and deeply rewarding to create, but it's also a truly harrowing process of waiting for inspiration and hoping that when it does come, you have the time to follow where it leads.

At least that's my process. Which, as we've discussed, doesn't really work very well. So...I'll just shut-up now.