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I work in an office.



For the most part, I am the youngest person here. Currently, right now, I am listening to a chipmunk voice being played over the intercom, singing about whipping somebody's ass. Everybody here is crazy and bored. EVERYBODY.



I like my working environment. My co-workers are all really nice and really funny. A moment ago, our company secretary was walking around beating a bucket with a spoon, chanting that we should all just go home early because there's not a lot going on. I'd agree with her if it wasn't for the fact that my hours are already being cut.



According to Liz, we're slowing down. That means that while she still has a thousand things to do every moment of every day: I apparently don't. Don't get me wrong, I would love a new opportunity for something better than this. A new job that has room to grow with a chance for benefits and promotions? That would be pretty nice. Sadly, though, I'm a pothead. Potheads have a hard time passing drug tests. Even if I did stop today, it'd be another month before I'd have a chance to make it through a urine test or, God forbid: a hair test.



I want to have money to spend on the things that I like. When Megan and I move out together, I want to be able to help with the furniture we need and all of the things that are essential. But on top of that, I want to be able to decorate our place tastefully, and I want to be able to afford some indulgences along the way. I don't see anything wrong with that. If Liz's job remained stable, then there wouldn't be any problem at all. And it could, if Liz wanted it to. But at the first sign of trouble she's basically cutting me as her first expense, which I think is pretty shitty considering how much I've helped her out over the past eight months. It doesn't matter to a person whose only concern is making as much money as possible, even sacrificing her personal life in the process of doing so. She doesn't NEED me because she has no problem devoting 100% of her time to her job, without any room in-between for hobbies or friends or anything beyong her stupid church. And, well, I guess I just have to deal with the fact that I mean nothing, and will be sent to the chopping block the moment things slow down even a little bit.



My parents are pushing a job at my Dad's company on to me with gusto. I can understand why: the job has a lot to do with sales contracts - something that my current job has gotten me decently familiar with. On top of that, it's generally another, albeit more beneficial, office job that will probably be more strict than this one but certainly more profitable. I'm scared of going for it, really. On one hand, I will most likely not pass the drug test from the very start. Even if I did shell out the money for detox or pay for a plastic bag full of clean urine, I feel as though I would screw the job up, and therefore mar my Dad's reputation with his own company.



I suppose that I should be more confident. After all, I know that I can be a good and motivated employee when given proper reason to be (such as being rewarded for the fucking work that I do) but I feel like this position would just be well over my head. They want someone with a degree and with a lot of experience. I don't want to get the job just because my Daddy's a company salesman and knows all the right people. Don't get me wrong; I will, by all means, take a job that my family has found for me through one connection or another. But this is different. This could really matter. This is a high-end position. Even if I'm just the office bitch: I'll still be getting paid pretty good money, most likely with free benefits and possibly even tuition re-imbursement.



I'm scared of that, I guess. It's not just some shitty position in the back of a screen printing warehouse, or being the personal assistant to somebody who told you from the get-go that you're never going to be paid overtime; it's a real job, with a real significance that I find intimidating. Why wouldn't I? I'm a useless stoner who can't make heads or tails or the world. I've been given so much in my life and have let so many opportunities slip away. I'm afraid of the very though, and I'm even more afraid of failing the drug test. My parents know the situation. After the fiasco that was my time at Camco, I told my Father before the ball even started rolling that I would, yes indeed, fail a piss test. He's upset, and understandably so.



Maybe this is the reason I've been looking for? Maybe this could be the start of a true, adult life for myself.



I just bought forty dollars worth of weed. I could probably sell it to somebody, but I don't even know if I want to. When I tried to quit, I made it a whole four days. I was so bored and irritated by Saturday night that I just gave it up, and said that I was going to "cut back". Well, I'm still smoking daily, and not a damn thing has changed. I do believe that I can do it, but I'd need a damn good reason. So, maybe, this job could be that reason. Even if I don't get it, the chain could be broken by the very possibility. At that point, I'd be drug-free, and able to go for any job that I wanted.



Damn. I guess I do have to give up weed after all.



Well, we'll see if I can even manage. It'd be nice to have a good job - one that I can actually rely on to do me right.



Recently, I've done my best to come to terms with the fact that being a good person means nothing when it comes to the grand scheme of things. You have to work hard, know your strengths, find your talents and meet all of the right people. I've fought to be a good person for the entirety of my life. I'm glad that I have, and that I am a good person. But I suppose that now, it's time to grow up and accept the fact that there is no such thing as destiny. It's a romantic concept that was made by man to compensate for the fact that life is really fucking hard and unpleasant. Kind of like religion. Zing!



I should probably do some work now.