I hate growing up. I wish I didn’t have to.
My life used to be so easy, but now it sucks. Taxes are hard, money is stressful, and all I do is work. Why the hell did I want this growing up thing so bad? For freedom? I’ve never felt more trapped in my life. People say I have a choice, but I don’t believe them. What’s the choice?
Anyways, I’m not here to complain today. I’m here to tell you about my lonely little life, and how lovely it’s been lately.
I think I might leave my job. And before you start staying stuff – “B-but you just got this one…”. Give me a break – everyone wants to leave their job. Don’t judge me for actually doing it.
Here’s my logic. Why should I stay? For the money? For my resume? For my career? None of that matters to me – so let me tell you why I want to go.
I haven’t had time to write in my diary since starting here. I haven’t done anything besides work. I feel incomplete as a human because my life falls behind everytime my career advances.
I get so much praise for my promotion – when was anyone ever this proud of me for doing what I actually loved?
Whatever. That’s not all I have to say. I also want to talk about how lonely I feel.
I have no friends. At least none that I can see regularly. I don’t have that many people close to me geographically that I can go to in a time of need. That bites. Guess that’s just another part of growing up though.
What else…? Let me think. I guess I just feel like a loser right now. I’m not doing anything I want to do, I’m not getting better at anything, and I’m not getting closer to anyone. Boo hoo.
That’s why I’m going to change things up, reader. I can’t keep crying about problems I’m not willing to fix. I liked the little bit of money, status, and feeling of praise I got for my job – but it wasn’t worth the short-term high. I need something that’ll last a lifetime for me. I need something that’ll get me up every morning and put me to bed feeling like I’m actually going somewhere. (Somewhere that’s not working 10 hours a day for the rest of my life.)
And I need to lose weight, but we’ll talk about that next time.
Your dearest writer
P.S. I really hope this isn’t all there is to my life.