Monday, August 18, 2008

Funny and Not

I'm wondering about all these Adsense type things that I have set up on this site. Right now they're all advertising products to eliminate excessive armpit odor. Come now--where in the purple fuck do I mention armpit odor on this site? Could it be that they can smell me from here? I've been having to shower at work. My shower isn't working. The one in my son's room is still good, but I don't feel right about going in there to shower. So sometimes, admissibly, it's a few days between. Hell, we can't all have the lap of luxury. I can't afford to get the shower fixed. And the last couple of nights I was too tired to go into work in time to get a shower. So I guess I ain't exactly a field of lilies right now. Too fucking bad.
I was mentioning in the last post about my friend's concern over me losing the magical aspect of myself and feeling helpless because even he in all his ethereal ghostliness can't give it back to me. It's exhaustion, stress, pure and simple, and a feeling of giving up on everything because shit has just never worked my way. I have to go for orientation to the nursing program tomorrow, something I really don't want to do. The only reason I'm getting my nursing license is because everything costs so god damn much and I need to be able to make more money. I have no delusions of being Florence Fucking Nightingale. I work with the elderly and unlike some people I treat them with respect rather than condescension. There's some of them who are sour, unpleasant old so and so's, but for the most part, they're just people. I figure, if you've made it to 80 or 90 years old, the least people can do is treat you with respect. Age in this society is seen as something to have disdain for and I think that's wrong. You shouldn't have disdain for anyone based on age, gender, or race. Anybody who disagrees with me can go suck an exhaust pipe. I don't have any tolerance for racism, sexism, ageism, or homophobia.
I have the greatest of respect for caregivers, but I just don't feel like it's my path. I always wanted to work in the arts: writing, acting, drawing cartoons, something. But it's never come together. I feel like I, the real me, what I wanted to be and should be, is trapped in a dead body that refuses to lie down. I never became. And it causes serious distress.
I feel really angry with myself for this. In the past I would have cut myself to bring the poison to the outside. Its counterproductive. I don't do it any more. But I am highly dissatisfied. Why the fuck does the Universe give skills, talents, gifts, whatever to a person and then say "well, fucker, you're on your own. Here's the creek and you ain't got no paddle."
Sometimes I think the powers that be are just straight up sadistic. And for that I fart in their general direction. Maybe they'll send me some of that stuff for excessive sweat, and some of those charcoal liners for excessive gas. Not that I actually have either--at least not at the moment. Just that it would be about what I'd reckon on from the Powers that Be. A break certainly doesn't seem to be "in the cards."

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

That is an odd choice of ads. I get eye surgery ads, but I think this is because Hobbes' profile says he reads a lot.
It is frustrating not to have enough creative time.

Spilling Ink said...

I can certainly understand creative frustrations. I could write a whole book on that topic alone. Maybe that's what we should do, Lily.

As to armpit odor, I don't dare have google ads. They'd smell me, too. I take enough showers, but I don't wear deodorant because I worry it might be unhealthy. Sometimes, if things get a little *fragrant*, I begin to get kind of pissed off about having such a worry.