I have no motivation...whatsoever...

Writing has always been something that I've been passionate about. Always. But, as of lately, I have found myself avoiding it. And avoiding this blog! You know why? Because I'm always tired. Always worn out. Never have enough time.

And to top things off, I don't have my own computer! And so I have to "Blog" when I'm on a break, or at lunch, at work! But...to let you know, blogging at work isn't a very 'fun' thing.

So, I'm at work. And bid you goodbye. Maybe the next time I post it will be long, thought out, and coming from the source of a home computer! (When I buy one of course.)

The Volvo has entered the building...

Yay! So, after much saving, anticipating, and suffering, I gathered together enough money to pay for the Volvo in full! And I must say, that is the best thing about this car. I won't have any car payments! It's MINE! I own it! And I don't 'owe' anybody!

I have never been so excited! I'm a car owner! I am the proud owner of a Volvo!

And, as you know, those cars just keep going, and going....and going....and going...

Almost like the energizer bunny!

Anyway, I am sorry I haven't been blogging as much as I should, but I've been tired, and I've yet to get my own computer...

Which is the next thing on my list!

A laptop! And! I get a discount from Dell because of where I work!!

A Volvo!

This morning I got up extra early to go look a car. Not just any car though, a 1992 Volvo 940GL. Oh yeah, that's what I'm talking about.

The car is not the newest, and is actually almost as old as I am...it's not the best, it's not the most amazing.

But it rocks for my budget!

And you wanna know the most amazing thing about the volvo? It will be all mine in a week.

Mine!

My very first car!

INDEPENDENCE WILL BE MINE!

I've got a follower!!

The follower is anonymous, but I think I have a pretty good idea of who that particular person is.

Thank you for following! And reading my rants and raves about nothing in particular. I appreciate your patronage!

More later, gotta go from break!

My shirt shrunk.

I'm a little upset. When I got dressed this morning, everything appeared to be normal. My pants fit fine, snugly staying up at the waist. But when I got to work, I realized how much things were different.

My shirt is a lot shorter! I've been having to watch myself all day, making sure that no one gets a peek at something they shouldn't get a peek at!

It can be exhausting and frustrating, trying to make sure that I don't feel a draft behind me, but...it needs to be done.

And I can guarantee I'm never going to wear this shirt with these pants again!

My feet hurt!

When today started, and the sun peeked over the horizon, and I emerged from beneath my covers, I thought to myself...Today's a 'Heel' type of day...If you have no idea what I was thinking about, I woke up immediatly with a pair of black pumps on the mind, and which outfit to go along with it.

Now, for you to fully understand the complexity, and agony of the situation, let me start off by telling you that I had yet to wear this black leather, crocodile skin texture, pair of black stilettos.

Adorable, eh? No.

Feirce is more like it!

They have been sitting in my closet, yet to have been worn, or even touch their poor little soles to pavement or dirt. So, when I woke up this morning, and just kinda stared at my feet for a few moments, I realized today was the day.

I was finally going to wear those heels.

And that was a painfully bad mistake to make.

Literally.

My toes are squished together, starting to look like one big mount of nail and flesh (gross, I know) and when I take the shoes off, the entire toe portion of my foot is red.

And it hurts!

In an attempt to be intelligent here, I'm going to list out a few words that could describe the feeling, a little more than 'hurting'.

It's agonizing. Severe. Raw. Excruciating pain!

But, even I have to admit.

They look damn good! And at the end of the day, I'll look back and tell myself, it was all worth it! Because they are just feirce!

Netflix

I finally gave in and signed up for Netflix. I have cable, which was why I was apprehensive in the first place to even get a membership. But, with the tantalizing offer of a 'free' trial, I put in my address...my debit card information...and other preliminary information...

Now, I'm officially a Netflix member. And I must tell you, I'm excited about it too! You can watch movies online for free, as well as getting actual dvd's in the mail.

The reason I'm so happy about it now, is because rather than renting movies I tend to buy movies...which, now when I'm trying to budget, is a terrible habit. Not to mention actually renting movies is terribly expensive.

With Netflix, I can get 2 movies at a time for 13.xx a month. That's about how much it is to rent from a movie store, am I right? About? The benefit of netflix is that I can send them back and get more, unlimited...without the price going up!

And, when I'm at work and on lunch, I can go into the little 'internet' cafe and watch a movie!

Yay!

Sometimes, with the job that I do hold, I need to have a break...to get away. And movies can get my mind off all the angry customers.

And that's something to be excited about!

World's Strictest Parents.

You have no idea how entertaining that show is! It comes on CMT, and MTV.

As you can tell from the title, if you haven't already seen the show, it's about the world's most strict parents.

Two unruly teenagers are shipped off to these 'strict' partents houses for a week, to be reformed, buffed and polished.

While I watch the show, I can't help but scoff here, roll my eyes there, and make snide remarks there and here. My parents would not have even let me 'THINK' about engaging in that kind of behavior.

Yes I admit it. Like many other teenagers 17 and younger, I did have a tongue and used it....often. But I always felt miserable afterwords, and apologized.

Oh, but not the kids on this show! They're, to sum it up in a work, TERRIBLE!

I am astounded by the way that they act, and speak to their parents.

And most of my remarks usually begin with "Ooh, my kinds are not going to (insert crude/rude/obnoxious behavior here)!"

And they won't. At least I hope they won't.

No, they definitely won't.

Not Per Usual

So this morning, I woke up at my usual time. Got ready at my usual pace. And expected to leave my house at a usual time.

But, to my advantage, my dad was sick.

Now before you get all judgemental, and start thinking terrible thoughts about my character, just wait a moment.

My usual time to get up in the morning is 5:30.

The time I go to work? 11:15.

Do you know why there is such a dramatic difference?

Because my dad works before me! And because his day starts at 8:00, and mine at 11:15, I have to leave the house at his hour. 7:20.

And do you know where I go for that time period? 7:40-10:45? Cindy's house. Cindy is a woman I work with, who is undeniably sweet, by the way.

I go there in the morning, and car pool to work.

So I'm up at 5:30. Working at 11:15. And don't get off until 8:15.

Now, rather than drawing mean faced characters on peices of paper, imitating me, think about how long my days actually are!

Getting back to the point, my dad was sick. So...

Drumroll please!

I got to sleep IN!

Till 8:00!

And do whatever the heck I wanted around the house!

I feel so rested today!

So...utterly...AMAZING!

And it's all because my dad came down with the cold.

I love ya dad, and I'm sorry you're sick. I hate seeing you sick.

But it is nice not having to leave the house so early, isn't it?

(This won't permanently be the case...only for the next few weeks until I get my car!!)

The urge.

Before you start to think lower of me, or let your mind wander to different territories that aren't suitable for children, let me explain my title.

The Urge.

You may link it the phrase to the urge to jump up and frantically run to the restroom.

But my urge is something entirely different.

I have the urge to be someone. Someone important. Someone successful. Someone....better than who I am now.

And, unfortunately enough for myself and all the other young adults making the trek into 'The Real World', the reality of the 'Real' world comes as a blow to our egos. In highschool, we used to take tests and surveys to see which facet of life we would best fit. Where we could be successful, and where we could make tons of money doing the things we love.

"Go to college!" They said. And we, like the doe eyed ignorant fools we were, responded "Alright! I will!" Without even thinking of the reprocussions of student loans, and the saying 'Living paycheck to paycheck' didn't even come to mind.

"Choose a career that you'll want to do every day of your life!" They encouraged. And because we were excited we looked into doing something we loved, we looked into it. I remember being completely overwhelmed with the concept. Something I'm going to want to do the rest of my life. 52 weeks a year. 365 days a year. "I choose writing! I choose English!" I finally came to the conclusion.

Then good ole buddy 'reality' came in to play a few notes and punch me in the gut in the form of my peers; teachers, family and friends alike. "What kind of living can you make if you are mediocre? Get into the health industry! They make lots of money!"

What I wanted to do was to get an English major. I wanted to write, to teach, and to create. I wanted to spin worlds of my own on with tales of dragons, or just regular stories of love and new beginnings. I wanted to be my own person. I wanted to choose a career that I loved.

And look where I am now. 6 months out of graduation, and here I am, simply existing. Going through the motions of everyday life as an ordinary office drone. Doing something that I don't necessarily love with people I don't necessarily like.

The dreams I had for writing and English have all but faded into the background. Where my bills, 40 hour weeks and expenses have taken center stage.

I'll get back to it some day. And someday soon, I'll start college with the same ferventness that I had before I graduated. Some day, maybe not so soon, I won't worry about my finances. And when it comes to choosing that major, it will be decided by what I want to do, rather than what will make me the most money.

So, as my lunch comes to an end, I bid you a farewell, and trump out of the room back to my cubicle. And fall back into the routine of the office drone that I've become.

Thanks for reading.