Now that I know I'm not afraid of dying, I should really dedicate my life to doing things that are hard or dangerous for others to do. Preferably something that benefits people. Like maybe I can get fit and be a fire fighter, or rescue squad or some such.

Falling into the rhythm of employment is easy for me. When I'm hired, I keep the job. To date, I've never had a job less than a year and also been employed at all times since I was 16. I've worked a total of 3 places ever, so it's easy to form attachments to jobs and I don't leave unless there's no other option. 

Left the dining hall due to lack of hours they'd schedule me for. No seniority for an employee of 4+ years. Left the bookstore for the same reason, but their scheduling policy changed when store management did. And now, it seems like Dial is trying to get rid of me in much the same way. My hours (a meager 23 normally ) were cut in half. It's almost not even worth the drive. I'm putting out leads for new employment at the same time that I try to study for finals and write papers. 

There is an enormous amount of work to be done. Also my car just started making a sound, but that may be the extreme levels of anxiety talking. 

There is so much beauty in the world, yet. There is a wonderous beauty to this melancholy. To wondering what else I could have been, and where else I could be. But I am so glad that there are good things. Things that give faith in the good in people renewed fuel. I need things like that.

I'm going to scream.

The next bit is going to be hard times, I fear. The holidays are always an especially acutely lonely time for me since my mother went and fouled everything up with her relations. I suppose it's also been that way since my Great-grandmother died. She was the matriarch- Christmas and Thanksgiving at her house every year. My father and stepmother have Thanksgiving and Christmas, but because so much of the rest of the family has other familial obligations to attend to, they make sure to do it in the afternoon or morning, so it's convenient for everyone. Sure they'd let me stay longer if I wanted, but they're grown and they have lives to lead. Also, I'm fairly certain I'm scheduled to work everyday that's not a federal holiday. The end result is me at home in an empty apartment for stretches of many days. It can be disorienting. I'm not looking supremely forward to any of it.

The walls resound a seeping cold
that pulls away at sleeping souls,
it's quiet here; the insects, bold
the fabric strewn with tiny holes.

A tiny sigh and rush of air
burst from the one in sleeping death
at night, though, all had best beware
the little thing would steal your breath.

And I with worries, oft here dwell
for nowhere else would have me.
The joyous flickering lights would tell
quite the different story.

A big part of growing up has been realizing that I don't need anyone to fix me. As I try my hand at being an adult, I find myself settling into the person I'm going to be. Part of the reason I would constantly search for male companionship was this idea I'd had that if I found the right person, they'd smoothe out the parts of myself that I didn't like and make me into someone new. Not only is this not true, but it's pretty stupid to think I thought that ever. I don't need fixing, because I'm the shit. The 'Great Love *TM' that's out there will most assuredly be a transformative influence, but it's not going to fix my flaws. Slowly building myself into a person without chinks in my armor.

I asked myself earlier how I could even entertain the idea of infatuation I've never even spoken to. And I know now that I don't, and couldn't really. I'm infatuated with the idea of that infatuation. It's unfair to the pretty thing. It's also silly to hold to the myth of the beautiful stranger. Things don't happen like that.