my job

Pointless Concerns

I am always so worried about my creativity disappearing. Like, what if one day I wake up and can’t draw? At all?

I’m terrified that’s already happened. I’m also terrified that it’s because I haven’t gone to college. I’ve traveled the world, worked crappy jobs, had a dream wedding, and have been married for like, seven ¬†months, but for some reason I feel like that’s not enough. Especially the traveling bit – it took me so long to come to terms with the fact that maybe I didn’t do everything I felt I should, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t get shit done, you know?

But man, I’ve waxed and waned oh so poetically about my possible loss of creativity, and I just want to be done. I want to be motivated to draw, and write, and dance, and run, and make a little music every day. I want to be motivated enough to actually learn Spanish. I want to get over my fear of debt for life and total failure and actually apply for scholarships and schools and just go. I want to be an art student, but I also want to be a bad ass investigator or something so I want to stop caring if my art is good enough and just make art for my love of it and study hard to become the bad ass investigator or international diplomat or whatever I want to be.

Shoot. I just realized something.

I don’t actually want to make a career out of my creativity, and I think I’m okay with that for the first time in my life.

I don’t have to make being creative how I support myself, I can be creative just because I want to and I need to get something out. And I can always do that, no matter what. And I can pursue a more intellectual career, and I won’t be betraying my little artist’s soul, so long as it doesn’t prevent my from generally being creative.

I can do what I want, and by choosing one thing it doesn’t mean I’m forgetting or excluding the other.

Huh. I should write more often. It really helps me think.

Today’s post is brought to you by the letter “S”

There’s this kid at my work named Tyler and I think he hates me.

I’m good at my job, but I hate it and I think he’s picked up on that and doesn’t appreciate it. I think he also dislikes that I’m almost always hustling to get out of there when my shift ends.

Most of my co-workers are fine and it’s not the worst job I’m just tired of it and it gets in the way of getting stuff done for the wedding and it’s just kind of a gross job. I come home smelling like campfire smoke, dirty dishwater, and feet. And like all people in food service my back is trying to murder me and may eventually succeed.

Since I’ve been so annoyed by it lately I’ve decided to start changing the notices and stuff at work in order to bring myself some small, absurd, mischievous joy.

MUST BE DONE BY THE END OF YOUR SHIFT
becomes
SMUST BE DONE BY THE END OF YOUR SHIFT

QUALITY INN MAP
becomes
LOW QUALITY INN MAP

Of course I didn’t just stop there. I messed with people’s time cards too.

TYLER
becomes
STYLER

LOGAN
becomes
SLOGAN

VANCE
becomes
SVANCE

Most of them have gotten a good laugh out of it. But Tyler asked me about it today and I think he was really mad. He said he wasn’t, but he was pretty passive aggressive about it.

Oops.

Sorry, Styler.