I’m about to hit the hay…but I thought I should try writing beforehand. Writing before bed hasn’t stuck yet. I’d really love for it to be an established habit.
It’s been getting rough again lately. I thought I had tomorrow off, but I found out today (by my luck! I’ve been a bad employee lately) that I’ve got a closing shift. I don’t feel time moving as much nowadays.
I’ve agreed to wake up at 6:30 AM to go to a café before my partner has to go to church (yes, I’m dating a guy who goes to church — it’s Montana, what do you expect — then afterwards I’m meeting a friend at Sidewinders at 11:45 AM. At least I’ll have my breakfast and lunch paid for in one day ;P
Then a wonderful surprise shift at 2…this job at Safeway is getting to be the worst thing ever. I dread walking into that dehumanizing complex and working in a restricted space. If I was jumping around departments I think I could last another couple years with this damn company.
I worry delaying my education at a university is setting me up for a lifetime of dead-end jobs. My boss wears Prada glasses, carries an LV clutch and has a fucking BRONZE Range Rover. Her family gave her 40 acres of land but she turned the offer down (too complicated to explain but I could explain my boss’s lore if you asked). But she is stuck scheduling university students with conflicting classes and serving customers that eat sandwiches straight off the bare fucking tables. But she thinks she keeps her dignity by refusing to wash the dishes. The thought of being in a position like that…shudderssss….
But I only like to do things when they feel right. I don’t feel ready still. I’m mentally and financially preparing for a 50% increase in my rent, and also continuing to save up for a big trip outside the country. I’m not sure if school will come before or after that. I’ve got my eye on a hospitality degree…so perhaps I could study abroad? Not quite sure what my chances are for that. But before ANYTHING!! I must be properly fluent in another language, most likely Spanish since I grew up with a Salvadoran mom.
But during a class last week my teacher made a baffling point as to why I wasn’t progressing as much as I thought I would. She asked if my mom ever graduated high school, and I said she only made it to 8th grade. So essentially I had grown up with a mom who could only speak Spanish at a middle school level of education. I was so stunned, because I blamed myself a lot for how shitty I speak. In the end it was nobody’s fault, and now I feel even more motivated to learn the right way, for the sake of breaking this cycle of illiteracy.
My uncle has been pushing for me to attend flight attendant school; he said I could get a good salary for being bilingual. I could work at a hotel in a beautiful part of Mexico or South America if I can get a grip on myself and stop wasting my precious hours scrolling away online. I’ve been removing social media from my phone and downloading language apps, but I’m still trying to crush the habit of tapping on YouTube or Facebook. I really hate how far I let these assholes rewire my brain to their own selfish benefit. I always think of how much farther ahead in life I would be if I never downloaded Instagram or TikTok. But it is what it is. Es lo que es.
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