I think that was what is commonly referred to as "2009" but I remember it as "That year everything was magical". That was three years ago, which is scary to think about.
I realize that the fact that I can count on a single hand my blog posts in 2011 (and this is my first post of 2012) no longer qualifies me to consider myself a blogger. Also, I'm updating said blog via email from my iPhone because I don't have Internet at home which is a massive pain in the behind. It actually does hinder my writing, blogging, and Internet trolling because those are the types of things I used to do to procrastinate Real Tasks like writing a novel or editing a memoir or, you know, homework (when that existed).
I have a feeling I'll be blogging a bit more this summer though, because I'm quitting my job soon. Very soon. I actually skip a little every time I think about it because my workplace is a decrepit hole of misery full of pathetic lifeless souls who are trapped in their dead-end jobs with no hope in hell of getting out without a serious stroke of luck.
I don't exclude myself from that. I have a dead-end job. I've also become a pathetic lifeless shadow of myself whilst working said dead-end job, and two weeks ago, I finally hit a limit I didn't know I had where my heart screamed ENOUGH OF THIS CRAP! and I decided to try to do something Better with my life.
Better. Not "different" Better. With a capital B. Because anything is better than working a job that uses maybe 3% of your mental capacities on a rough day. Better, because I'm not being polite about how much I dislike my job anymore. And Better, because there really are strata of people in the world and I reserve the right to consider myself Better than those whose largest monthly expenses are alcohol, protein powder and their gym membership. (I don't care if your trainer fought so-and-so on some dumb UFC show on TSN, you are a lazy line cook in a university pub and the only reason you still have a job you racist, sexist prick is because you have a union protecting you.)
It was different when I worked with a couple of people who actually read books. And liked music other than rap. Back then, I could stomach my job because it paid double minimum wage for menial labour but my brain was stirred by good conversation. Now, I listen to Carly Rae Jepsen's "Call Me Maybe" on repeat in order to stay upbeat so I don't smack any of my co-workers.
I'm not proud of this: "Call Me Maybe" is not a great song. I'm also not proud of how frustrated I've let myself become. Maybe it's why I haven't written or blogged a lot lately. Maybe I don't want to infect anyone with my anger and resentment. Maybe it's also because I know I did this to myself, that I kept this job, that I haven't seriously looked for a better one because what's the point of finding another job I don't really want?
I really want to write for a living. I haven't been writing lately. I don't have the energy or the time. I need the energy to write because it really is Work to me, and I need the time because I'm a perfectionist and I want to use the right words. I'm leaving this crappy job, but not without a stroke of luck. A very kind friend has offered me a place to stay this summer. This kind of generosity bowls me over. I'm still in shock, really, because this is a dream come true. To run away for two months and just WRITE? I've been talking about that ever since I met my boyfriend, Z. Heck, it was the topic of our very first real conversation. I'm not sure what compelled me to say it but we were at work and all of a sudden I just blurted out that all I really wanted to do was run away to a cabin in the woods and write. The look on his face was wonderful. Then and there I knew that no matter what he ended up being to me, we would always have that in common.
I'm not sure I have a point. Or maybe just posting again -writing and posting it on the fly like I used to- is the point. Either way, I needed to get this out, to articulate my relief that I've been given this opportunity, that some people are still as awesome as I remember, and that a little bit of good luck is still enough to keep my hopes up that I may be destined for something better than a blue collar job.
Perhaps the reason I haven't written in the last while is because I was beginning to lose hope. Hopelessness is scary to me, and I don't like spreading it. What I do like sharing is the opposite, the giddy feeling of possibility that comes with a new undertaking.
In any case, I'm leaving Vancouver soon. I'm destined for greener (warmer and more friendly) pastures. And I am so, so excited!