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A little update!

It's been a while since I've even touched VSCode. Hello. Life has been going almost a little too terrifically lately. I've got a new group of friends that I hang out with and, I don't know, this year seems kind of fresh! I think I started this website because life was stagnating a little bit. Nothing of any interest was happening in my life, or maybe I was just feeling stuck. Either way, this website was a little place for me to kind of just let loose and have something to do throughout the day.

But now that I'm going outside and hanging out with friends a lot more, I don't really have the time (or I guess don't feel the need to) do anything Neocities-related. Maybe I'll get back into the swing of things by updating the site every so often, maybe I won't. But it doesn't really matter anymore. The site no longer feels like an obligation, something to change and evolve for other people to see. I remember a couple months ago I would ruminate and workshop different layouts in my head while I'm at work, trying to figure out what kind of style and colors to add to the site to make it fresh for new eyes. Now when I come home, I hop on Discord with my friends, and we play games and have a good time.

I'm happy right now. This site was a refuge for the stale times in my bedroom, but my life's kind of in order at the moment so I don't have to seek it that much anymore. Maybe in the future when times get tough again I'll come crawling back, but for now this website is an afterthought. And I think that's a good thing. Thanks to everyone for appreciating the work I put into this dumb little project on the Internet. I'm excited for new chapters in my life and hopefully 50 more exciting, awesome new layouts in the next 3 months!

Ren Faire!

Went to the Ren Faire with Bree and my friend Vasti! Was really fun. Hot as hell though. Both Bree and Vasti were vampires and I was Jack from The Shining (which turned out to be a mistake because wearing a jacket and long-sleeve flannel in the heat is not enjoyable). We saw a lot of cool things. First off, the food is ridiculously expensive, I think even more expensive than last year. A turkey leg was like 18 dollars! I think we may have spent like 200 pounds (they refer to dollars as pounds over there). There were a ton of cool costumes. There was this really impressive raven costume. The feathers were so realistic and they had the little talons for feet. We drank strawberry lemonade out of this big ass glass to keep ourselves cool. By the end of the day Bree had taken off her wig and I had taken off my jacket.

Life is going pretty well so far. I've been needing something to cheer me up lately.

I'm doing a bit better.

Just a little update. I've been doing a bit better than usual. Usually around this time of year I get into long & drawn out depressive episodes but this year is a little different. I've been hanging out with friends a lot more, and I finally cleaned my room! I don't feel disgusting anymore and it's refreshing. I re-downloaded an app called Habitica--a task managing app where completing different tasks gives you experience points and levels up your character--and it's really helped me get going throughout the day. I'm managing my hygiene, keeping my room clean, I've even made my bed! (I haven't done so in almost a year) Everything seems to be falling into place.

Next week me, Bree, and a friend are going to the Ren Fair. It's probably going to be a lot of fun. This is the first year that I'm dressing up, so I'm pretty excited. I've spent a lot of money this month though, specifically on stuff for my costume and other clothes. I think October is one of those months where advertisements and marketing actually work on me. Nonetheless, even though my pockets are looking a bit dry, I'm excited to see October to the end.

Even though I've been doing pretty good, I'm feeling a bit of guilt for being in good spirits. With the seemingly exponential increase in deaths and displacement in Gaza, I can't but feel like I'm undeserving of this comfort. Maybe it's selfish to even feel guilty. Whatever the case is--if I'm a good or bad person for feeling this way--I still feel awful for feeling good, if that makes sense.

Lots of stuff going on in the world.

Hamas has officially made its way into Tel Aviv. Everyone online is up in arms because of alleged murder, rape, and kidnapping of Israeli civilians. My current position on everything is pretty simple. Yes, violence against civilians is not good, obviously. However there's been a fixation--particularly by the Western media--on the wrongdoings of Hamas and barely any lines of talking about the apartheid state that is the state of Israel. This is probably old news to most people, but for those who don't know or have forgotten Gaza has been under constant bombardment by Israeli military forces for the better part of the last century. Palestinians have been deemed second-class citizens by the state of Israel and many atrocities have been committed against the people in Gaza, such as: indiscriminate killings; blockades to prevent Palestinians from leaving; embargoes on things such as food, electronics, clothing, and other goods; and the poisoning of the water supply.

Western media has kind of been ignoring the acts of brutality that Israel has committed against these people as Israel is kind of an important ally to many western countries, most notably the United States. However, there's an interesting contrast from how media outlets in western countries cover the conflict compared to media outlets within Israel. Currently, various Israeli news sites have been critical of the Israeli government--specifically Netanyahu, Prime Minister of Israel--for being instrumental in the creation of Hamas. There are reports that the Israeli intelligence community has warned Netanyahu and his party's constituents about the possibility of Palestinian retalition which could result in threats to Israel's security, but those grievances have largely been ignored by Netanyahu.

That's pretty much the context so far. At least the amount that I want to type out. The Palestinian-Israeli "conflict" (the word conflict is in quotations here because it really is just military and state dominance over a wronged people) has a very long and drawn out history, extending back to the heyday of European colonialism. Anyways, basically I've been losing my mind over the past couple of days just reading stuff about the situation, people's reactions to the situation, people's reactions to those reactions, and it's been driving me insane. It makes me kind of wish I was just an ignorant American who lived in the midwest and didn't know what a Palestine was. But I was birthed into this world as a hyper-online maniac.

On top of that, it's sad to see some of the people that I know in real life and respect kind of be ignorant about the situation. I understand that you don't have to be a press secretary on Instagram to be involved in this issue, but the lack of support for people who are trying to resist a literal apartheid state is a little disappointing. But maybe that's just me being ashamed that I'm the only politically involved freak amongst my friends.

Guilty as charged.

A little background: I was a little late picking up Bree on Saturday. It takes around 40 minutes to get to her work, and I realized it was already time to leave when I came out of the shower. My brother had my car and my Dad needed his later, so I used my Mom's van (she was out of town so I was in possession of it.) I floored it (100mph) on the tollway and hit a couple bumps and then bam! The rear bumper came right off. I had to drive 20 minutes with that rear bumper just hanging onto the back of the van and it was so embarrassing. Cars were passing by and I couldn't help but feel shame that I was driving a Honda Odyssey with the rear bumper flapping in the wind like a sail. Eventually I reached Bree's workplace and I was still 10 minutes late. If I had just gone speed limit it probably would've been fifteen, but I would still have a bumper that was intact. Now I'm late AND my Mom's van needs repair. I popped it back in, but there was still a crack that showed where it broke off.

We still had fun afterwards though. I've been having this Starbucks drink every week so Bree and I got one for the both of us. It's a pumpkin spice creme chai latte with oatmilk and three pumps of brown sugar syrup, two if you're ordering a grande. She cut a little bit of my hair off the sides and then cut a significant chunk of her own hair. She was not happy about how much she cut off. Other than that, we had a good time.

My Mom and Dad eventually found out and I had to talk to them about it. I felt extremely bad and very guilty. I was so guilty to the point where I boiled over with anger at myself. I might have also let some of that anger out on my Mom. She was asking a lot of questions and kept saying my explanation of how it happened didn't make sense, which added another layer of frustration that led to me raising my voice at her a little.

I don't know, I've been a little doomer lately. I've been extremely self-conscious about everything about myself. My face, my weight, my position in society, how my friends see me, etc. I apologize for saying this, but living in this capitalist hellscape is wearing down my edges a little bit. I'm starting to think about just ending it all, but as always I snap out of it. I've been trying to adopt a philosophy of just being a grill-pill guy. Sure, the world is sort of crumbling around us and there's a hole in everyone's soul that slowly grows bigger. I think for most people the walls are closing in and it's a little suffocating. But you just kind of have to go on and live life. No amount of worrying or dread is ever going to make anything better. The only thing you can do is just try to be better. Abandon all hope of achieving anarcho-communist revolution in your lifetime and focus on just living the best life you can. Plant the seeds in your lifetime so that they may grow in another's. I will probably read back on this in a week and think of how cringe it is to say any of these juvenile revelations, but it's the only thing that's keeping me here.

Anyways, been reading John Williams' Stoner and that Sweezy book about the Cuban Revolution. Got of my reading slump this month, woohoo!

Today I exploded.

The powder keg finally popped today. It started with my first sleep paralysis demon this morning. After dropping off my brother and sister for school, I had 30 minutes to kill before work, so I took a nap on my couch. After around 20 minutes or so I half woke up and couldn't move a muscle in my body. I couldn't even open my eyes. I was awoken by sounds of someone talking upstairs, which was peculiar because no one was home at the time. I just thought, "Okay, I'm imagining the voices." Immediately after this thought, there was suddenly a loud thudding directly above me, as if a metal ball and just dropped on to the floor above me. After that, I heard a man screaming and running into the room where I was sleeping and screaming directly next to me. I couldn't open my eyes. I was completely frozen. I then felt his presence climb onto the couch near my feet, and then I suddenly snapped out of it. I looked around. Nothing was there.

Work was as usual, clock in, mindlessly type on the computer, have lunch in the conference room with and feel alienated from my coworkers, go back to work, leave. I picked up my siblings and told them all about the sleep paralysis episode. They had a kick out of it. That was fun, I like talking to younger kids and being surprised at how much they know.

The flame that sparked the explosion was afterwards, when Bree and I started crunching the numbers to see if our income was sustainable enough to move out. In short, it was not by a pretty sizable margin. By like over $1,000 monthly. I tried to discuss with my Dad to see if there was any way we could somehow cut expenses to even have a possibility of moving out; he said it was either work more or renting, and I am definitely not renting. When we finished our discussion and I walked into my room, the moment I closed the door I just cried. It wasn't ugly, but it had been a while since I felt a release of emotion like that. I just stared at myself in the mirror and watched as my eyes leaked. I thought back on everything. How did I end up here, 19 and not in college, working full time, and still I have no financial sustainability? I was furious, and sad. Furious at the fact that rent is so high here, sad that Bree and I probably wouldn't be able to sleep in the same bed until she graduates. Bree and I talked about, and we cried.

The person we planned on moving out with, our third, reeled it back in for us though. She helped us plan out our expenses and budget a lot better. There's now a slim chance of our dream coming true. I can't live here anymore.

Weekend in New Orleans.

We drove up to New Orleans for my cousin's engagement party. My mom drives like a fucking psycho. For a whole 4 hours she was intermittently texting while driving, and every time she would look up back on the road she would jerk the wheel and give everyone in the car whiplash. It made it very hard to sleep in the car.

The engagement party was pretty cool. They held a traditional Vietnamese engagement ceremony before the actual party. My cousin is marrying a white guy, so it was kind of funny seeing a parade of white people pull up to the house in full traditional Vietnamese clothing. Me and my other cousins laughed about it. There was also an instance where some candles had to be lit and one of them fell down and almost lit the tablecloth on fire. After that, it was the party. Nothing of real note happened. My cousin gave the "thank you for coming here" speech. Boring! The restaurant (which is where the party took place) was the complete opposite of the ceremony, nothing traditionally Vietnamese. Had one of those tacky neon signs that said: We're Engaged! or something like that hanging over wall of leaves. The sushi was really good though.

Me and my cousins headed back to my aunt Kailyn's boyfriend's place. Played billiards, watched YouTube videos, played three hours of Settlers of Catan. Funny thing that happened was Kailyn's boyfriend, Jacob, kept cursing while we were playing Catan, and my little brother (age 9) kept scolding him for saying bad words. It eventually got to the point where he stopped hassling him about it and would just give him weird looks for every "fuck" or "shit" or "goddamn" that would come out of his mouth.

All in all, I had a lot of fun.

Thinking, treats from Japan, more thoughts.

I can never bring myself to do anything in my room anymore. I've lost the ability to care for myself, my bedsheets remain unwashed and filthy stained yellow with sweat. A collection of bottles, trash, clothes, and books lay scattered in every space of this room. Those said clothes haven't seen the inside of a washer or dryer in months. They just lay there probably absorbing the hot air as their smells mingle and birth even worse smells.

It's a little embarrassing to write an exposé about my obscene disgusting lifestyle but there's a subliminal influence that's almost forcing me to do this. I have to write it down and have people see it, or I will never acknowledge it at all. There must be witnesses.

God, I am so full of self-loathing and shame and guilt and grief but for some reason it stops there. There's never anything that materializes beyond that realization. No confrontation, no actions to better my conditions. I'm sort of hoping that knowing there will be eyes other than mine to bear witness to my offenses will be the fire under my ass to get me to do something about it.

Bree and I had Japanese snacks yesterday. My favorites were the lychee hard candy, Caramel Pudding KitKat, and the grape gummies. I feel like she's inching closer to become on online influencer because she got these snacks for 1 cent on the TikTok shop in exchange for making a promotional video about it. Her video is especially hilarious, she recorded it like a sincere review of the snacks but spammed 50 different effects and filters throughout it almost made everything she said the background and the flashing colors and lights the main spectacle.

I've been internalizing a worrying amount this past week. It's ingrained into my workflow that I listen to something while I'm working to cool whatever thoughts I have bubbling up that I feel might lead to unnecessary stress. I abandoned that rule these past few days. The frustrating thing is that even after all of inward thinking I have come to no conclusions. Anything close to a conclusion as a result of these thoughts is so vague that it becomes a non-conclusion. The non-conclusion that I came to was this: The root of all the depressing feelings I have will never be identified. It will forever be something ambient, something foggy. All I can do is pray that I make it past 50. If I can make it past 50 this life is a success.

A couple of months ago I made a decision to start college. I applied for the Spring Semester at a community college with the plan of transferring to a university after making it through two years there. As the days march closer to that semester start date I grow less enthusiastic about my choice. Even being with Bree I still harbor a great deal of loneliness that I thought would be at least partially addressed if I was in an environment where there were other people physically around me. With January only being about a half-year away the impulse to back out starts showing up again. What if I'm incompetent at school? I haven't been in a learning environment in years. What if I end up hating everyone there? Even worse, what if I don't even end up making friends? I prepared a mental safeguard to prevent me from ever cancelling my enrollment, but the impulse lingers nevertheless.

Anime Matsuri with my partner and friend.

It happens that you have days where you regret every being depressed about the trajectory of your life and this weekend was one of those. I called off work on Friday because August is when events in Houston start popping up like boils and I did not want to miss the opportunity to go to one of them with Bree. A lot of my days at work are just sitting in my chair in a daze daydreaming about spending time with her. Lucky me, I got to spend time with her and and online friend of ours!

This was the first time that Bree has ever met up with a friend that she's met online (I've had the luxury and displeasure of living with one of them) so she was very nervous throughout the day. The plan was to go to an anime convention called 'Anime Matsuri.' Parking was fucking insane, the cost rounding out to around 45 dollars. Our friend also didn't have money, so I had to pay her ticket for her. It's fine though, she's done plenty of financial favours for all of us in the past, and she's treating us the next time we hang. The price of the general passes were 60 dollars, which was a lot less than we expected yet still hurt my pockets a little.

Most of our time in the convention hall on the first floor was spent walking around and taking pictures with cosplayers that we thought were cool, hot, funny, etc. This one person had a sick Eggman cosplay. Lot's of 'oohs' and 'ahhs' and 'damn!' whenever we saw an intriguing cosplay or art booth. A lot of highlights that day. For karaoke Spiderman covered a death metal song and had incredible stage presence. He jumped on the table and shit and probably busted his vocal cords just to give us performance of the con. We all LARP'd for the first time, hitting each other with foam swords and daggers is really fun. Definitely going to give that another go sometime in my life. Took some photos that went hard.

We went to McDonald's cause we were hungry and were definitely not ready to pay 9 dollars for a Chicken sandwich (which is a $4 markup from the usual Chicken sandwich at Chik-fil-a, what the fuck!) There a presumably homeless guy was acting up because he was hungry and started getting a little bit violent. There was a lingering fear in the air that maybe someone was going to get hurt, but nobody confronted him except for this one guy, who got really pissed at him. He was well-meaning though and ended up buying him some food so he could calm down. I wish I was as willing to do something like that. I did end up giving another homeless guy the rest of my fries because I felt some sort of class guilt. Bree told me that was her first experience with something like that, I told her it's normal for world events like that to happen in fast food chains in the downtown area. Ended the day with a bang.

Quickly, I got a cat! Her name is Bean and she's been hanging around my Mom's house for a couple of months. We finally put our foot down and took her in. Surprisingly it took her less than a day to warm up the new environment. She's so friendly and I lover her. I've been praying to whatever gods out there for a cat and I've finally been blessed. Making a public announcement to convert to theism. As always, tomorrow is a Monday and it sucks. I'm going to my cousin's wedding this week though, should be fun!

A formal apology to my Mom and her plants.

I woke up very very early today and took a shower in the morning, which I never have the time to do since I usually wake up minutes before I have to leave for work. It was nice, but I couldn't hold the reigns on the temperature. I would turn the knob a centimeter and it would change from hot to cold. I had a breakfast burrito, it was greasy and good. Got a call from Mom, she said I hadn't watered her plants in three days. Which is true, because I thought she was back in town, turns out she has another week. I wanted to be mad at her because I'm always usually mad at my Mom for something, but I couldn't bring myself this time. This was wholeheartedly my fault; I reluctantly nodded and incrementally responded "Okay, got it. Will do" as she gave me instructions about what to do while she was gone until Wednesday.

Work was as usual today as it was any other day. I drove back home from my lunch break and immediately watered the plants making sure to shower each and every one of them the love they had been missing for the past three days. I fed Bean (our soon to be cat that roams the street) and ate Pad Thai with a iced thai tea. Fucking delicious stuff.

Watched Jon Bois documentary on the legendary baseball player Dave Stieb. I've never watched a full game of baseball with my full attention, but this documentary made me laugh, cry, etc. Really good stuff, recommended it to my Dad today.

Anyways really sorry to the plants for being in the 110 degree weather for three days with no sustenance. Apologies!

I love hanging out and questions.

Weekends are a wonderful thing. I got to hang out with Bree all weekend and sleep all day. Most weekends feel especially short for some reason, now I know why. It's because every weekend I only spend time with Bree on one day! Usually we only hang out on Saturdays after she finishes work, which is sort of the like the start of the weekend for me. Before that I'm never really doing much.

Love getting Quora emails and clicking on them. A lot of the questions are always ridiculous, probably a high school kid being a jackass. But the real gems are found in the answers to those questions. Today's question I came across: "My IQ is 250 and I’m just 13 years old. What does that mean?" Very obviously a joke. Here's an answer from real human adults:

"It means that you're a liar, with very low self-esteem. Don't you know that the highest established IQ (Guinness) is 228? You rather need psychological help dear 13 years old human, than trolling on social media."

- Angelica Wonder, European Journalist

It means your IQ is not 250. Incidentally, dummy, if it were, then you wouldn’t be asking total strangers what it means. It’s pretty obvious that you mistyped 100.

- Buster Crab, M.A. / J.D. in Epistemology & Philosophy, Duke University

It means you're a liar and your real IQ is between 85–115 and you've never taken a real IQ test, or even spent 15 minutes learning about IQ and IQ tests.

- David Emiley, Master of Arts in Religious Studies, University of Wisconsin - Milwaukee

Why are they so mad? I think I might make a site dedicated just to Quora questions and answers. There's always a nugget of gold of a troll question that makes its way into my inbox every couple of weeks, and a plethora of polished diamonds found in the answers to that question. What a gem of a website.

Tomorrow marks the start of a new week, which is the week for events in Houston. There will be crazy shit happening all week, and on Friday Bree and I are going to have lots of fun at the Food Festival I believe. Too lazy to look up what the event is actually called, but I'm excited nonetheless. It's also Monday tomorrow, boo.

That Barbie movie is evil.

Experienced a true range of emotions this weekend. Just like everyone else who wasn't fast enough to buy tickets on the opening weekend of Barbie, me and my friends watched it this weekend. I'll get on with my day, but first thoughts on the movie: it was fine.

This doesn't really fully encapsulate how I felt about the movie, though. I think it's important (to me at least) to look at films for what they are and then separately what they represent. What the Barbie movie is is just that, a fine movie that dives (not to deeply but just deep enough to be seen as not surface level) into the ideas of intersectional feminism and what it means to be a woman. It does so pretty aptly. As a movie itself, it felt contrived to me, however at some level I think that it was intentional.

It's a gorgeous movie. I loved the set design and how playful, colorful everything was. Aesthetically this movie appealed to me. It does a lot of things that I don't really enjoy in movies. A lot of Marvel-esque quips and moments that are littered throughout its runtime, but I will say that some of those quips are genuinely funny and the people who wrote this movie at least have a solid grasp at humor. The pacing felt sporadic to me, like it was going a bit too fast and then it would slam the breaks but before you could catch your breath it would plant its foot on the accelerator again. That took me out of the movie a bit.

Everyone is right, Ryan Gosling steals the show once again. Really funny in this movie, he does really well at portraying how much a pathetic dog he is existing in this Barbie-centered world. Margot is perfect casting, she is the embodiment of Barbie in this movie, though I didn't like how many times they showed her feet (Bree pointed this out.) The 'human' characters felt more like plastic than human. They act as a sort of accessory to Barbie discovering herself and less like actual characters with history or even a soul, even though Gerwig through a multitude of scenes tries to hammer down that they do have them. They just felt like agents to keep the story moving forward. The emotional peak of the movie almost made me cry.

On to what this movie represents.

This is kind of the most evil movie I think I have seen in the past couple of years, even more evil than the soulless Marvel productions that somehow keep coming out every year. I can't put my finger on it currently, but there's something so sinister about Mattel being a major entity in the movie. The fact that Mattel obviously paid Greta millions to make this film and then one of the main focuses being a criticism of Mattel is just pure evil. The company's direct involvement of the criticism of the company shows that there is a sort of insincere self-irony about the whole thing; this is a marketing ploy to sell more Barbies at the end of the day. This isn't an original criticism by the way, but one of the many heralded towards the movie in leftist circles that I follow. Here's an excerpt (from what I believe is a David Foster Wallace essay, not sure though so don't quote me on it!) that aptly criticizes the institutional irony of this film through the lens of a Pepsi commercial:

"It's that Pepsi commercial where a special Pepsi sound-van pulls up to a packed sweltering beach and the impish young guy in the van activates a lavish PA system and opens up a Pepsi and pours it into a cup up next to the microphone. And the dense glittered sound of much carbonation goes out over the beach's heat-wrinkled air, and heads turn vanward as if pulled with strings as his gulp and refresh-sounding spirants and gasps are broadcast. And the final shot reveals that the sound-van is also a concession truck, and the whole beach's pretty population has now collapsed to a clamoring mass around the truck, everybody hopping up and down and pleading to be served first, as the cameras view retreats to an overhead crowd-shot and the slogan is flatly intoned: "Pepsi: the Choice of a New Generation." Truly a stunning commercial. But need one point out—as Miller's essay does in some detail—that the final slogan is here tongue-in-cheek? There's about as much "choice" at work in this commercial as there was in Pavlov's bell-kennel. The use of the word "choice" here is a dark joke. In fact the whole 30=second spot is tongue-in-cheek, ironic, self-mocking. As Miller argues, it's not really choice that the commercial is selling Joe Briefcase on, "but the total negation of choices. Indeed, the product itself is finally incidental to the pitch. The ad does not so much extol Pepsi per se as recommend it by implying that a lot of people have been fooled into buying it. In other words, the point of this successful bit of advertising is that Pepsi has been advertised successfully."

On to how today was, I confessed my suicidal ideations to my Dad today. It stemmed from our conversation about education, which usually leads to a conversation about the structure of our world and what we would like it to look like. There was a lot of discussion about generational differences and whatnot. I won't bother with the minutiae of our conversations, but that's essentially what it boiled down to: we can't ever really understand each other, all we can do is hope we come out the other side.

I'll sit on these thoughts another time, currently too exhausted mentally to even write down how I'm feeling (evident by my digressions about the Barbie movie having more length than what I can write about my emotions.) Tomorrow is another Monday, not looking forward to it.

Today I almost cried in front of my boss.

A very embarrassing day today at work, however justified my frustrations were. I think I pride myself on being a stable person in the eyes of people I'm not familiar with, though maybe that's true for everyone. I never want to be the center of attention (this excludes when I'm performing a character in front of my friends or when I want to annoy bree in a public place.) However today, I almost cried in front of my boss.

Mentioned in my previous entry, the clinic that I work at tends to overwhelm me with responsibilities I at least doesn't match the compensation for said tasks. I work for a measly 14 dollars an hour to do much more than what a 14 dollar an hour job usually entails. It seems that I'm sort of a dumping ground for tasks that either the nurse practitioner or providers don't want, or fairly don't have the time, to handle themselves.

Today that veil of composure almost broke in front of my boss, when he asked me why I hadn't notified him of something that desperately needed to be done yesterday. I was caught up in doing my usual job, and had completely forgotten about that task. I'm sure he didn't mean it, but it made me feel inferior and, even if only for a moment, undeserving to be working for him. I sort of scrambled around, trying to distract my brain from letting the tears break out of my eyes. I was successful in that at least.

I spent the next half hour trying to right my wrongs to the best of my ability, and I think he caught on to how I was feeling. He tried to give me advice: Come up with a workflow, then work out the kinks later. He was right, I didn't have a schedule, or an itinerary sorted out before I got to work. I approached work in a sort of Hail Mary approach, just do it and hope you finish everything by today.

I'm lucky to have empathetic employers, I think it's a lot different from maybe a corporate job because doctors kind of know the struggles of having to do a bunch of shit, they do plenty work themselves. I don't know, he's the only doctor I really know. But the nurse practitioner was my saving grace today. She and I developed a workflow together, this day you do this that day you do that, etc. I'm grateful for her. Now I am able to confidently go into the next week with a different head space, a new lens to look at how I do my job. Hopefully, I can do it much better. Would still like a raise though.

Ramble on, ramble on.

I have reached the conclusion weeks ago that I hate my work. Seems that my role at the clinic is a bit undefined; I am constantly asked to complete administrative tasks, such as writing and faxing out patient notes, but my job is 'technician' by title. When I joined the workforce it was explained to me that the 'technician' role was to simply prepare allergy vials for injection. I would also be overseeing the production of oral immunotherapy treatment.

This is annoying. I now, on top of my previously mentioned responsibilities, have to: send texts to patients, fucking call them if they don't respond, keep up to date with their immunotherapy and log their progress, check for medication prescriptions and remind providers to refill said medications, bill insurance, bill patients themselves, and a plethora of other things that I can't even remember at the moment.

It's become so overwhelming that I retreat to the bathroom whenever I can. I make sure to space it out so that it doesn't look suspicious, but I spend like 15 minutes in the bathroom because I just do not want to deal with my responsibilities. This would all be fine, I could live with being wage slave, if I just didn't have to do so much shit. Too much weight on my shoulders for 14 dollars an hour.

It's late, and I love Fridays. Bree and I are hanging out, we're going to have a fun time. Itinerary is to go thrifting and then Barnes & Noble. Can't wait!