My old 9-5 job called me this morning and requested that I come back to work with them. I had a year-long contract with them, so I was neither fired, nor did I quit. I threw it around in my mind for a hot minute, (as, ironically enough, I dished out 900 bucks for a car repair this morning, and thought back to the days where I didn’t struggle to make ends meet, and Ah, eureka, they call me and want me back!) but then I went back to my core beliefs - I’d rather be broke and happy, with time for the people I love, waking up in the morning looking FORWARD to going to work, with the ability to look the way I want, and use my one talent all day long/simultaneously have a great creative outlet, spending the days with co-workers I enjoy…five minutes from my house, than be loaded and miserable, being entirely too exhausted when I get home at night, neglecting my friends and family, being stressed out, changing the way I look to fit in somewhere I don’t belong in the first place, driving two hours a day, sometimes, into another state, and coming home to complain about how much of a soul-less shred of seaweed I’m becoming. The only benefit besides the money is that they have this BANGIN’ chinese place down the road, and I’d be able to afford the tattoos that I want. Talk about first world problems… I’d much rather be my content, broke-ass self than look back in ten years and realized I wasted the best days of my life as a fucking Squidward.

And in case I try to change my mind, I linked these two rants about the aforementioned 9-5, written when I was working there, this way I don’t paint the past with gold due to money:

http://nomadicstatic.tumblr.com/post/22234335465/im-almost-100-sure-that-im-ready-for-a-new-job

http://nomadicstatic.tumblr.com/post/23427441276/do-you-have-those-days-where-you-just-wake-up

I may or may not have legitimately just considered getting into a relationship SOLELY for the fact that I’d have constant access to cozy man-socks, and a cozy man-sock drawer. Now taking applications, warmest socks win my heart.

I also have the displeasure of being exposed to CHRISTMAS IN THE FUCKING MALL IN FUCKING NOVEMBER every time I show up for work, now. Don’t worry guys, looming, tacky, ceiling-height Christmas tree glaring at me from the window, lit-up balls, poinsettas galore, and Silver Bells while I’m taking a piss. Pains my scrooge heart. Bah humbuggin’ it for the next two months. Because that’s how far away Christmas IS, America. Christmas does not start before Halloween, America.

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Look at that guys, Soft Grunge has finally been defined.

It’s Paul McCartney singing Nirvana songs at the 12/12/12 show. Internet, rest easy.

(Source: nomadicstatic)

So infuriated with Drunk-Jess from like, a week or two ago who decided it was a good idea to get “Judas”, like, Lady Gag-me’s Judas… in her head. AND IT HASN’T LEFT SINCE. THE HORRIBLE SCREECHING, DAY AND NIGHT, ECHOING AROUND IN MY BRAIN.

I LEARNED LOVE IS LIKE A BRICK YOU CANNNNNN, BUILD A HOUSE OR SINK A DEAD BOD-AYYYYYYYYYY.

SOS

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Survived Hurricane Sandy with ABSOLUTE MINIMAL damage to my house, property, and vehicles. Sanity, not so much. I consider myself very lucky, and today, after four days, I’ve officially got power/internet/cable back! And, I got hired at a new (make-up related, SCORE) job today, so all around SQUEEEEEEEs of happiness. Lots of people around me aren’t going to have power for another week, there’s no gas on the fucking East Coast - lines are about 2 or 4 hours, 2-5 MILES long, if there’s even gas by the time you get to the front of the line. Shit is ridiculous, I plan on parking my ass home until it blows over. 

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