ADD Block

Over the course of the last month several things have been going on in rapid succession that have, in many ways left me scrambled, confused and otherwise ducking for mental cover.  Primarily when events spiral out of control I find that writing is the only way to be able to sit down, structure them, and put them in a logical order so that I can understand them.  Keep in mind that I have ADD, and being a stubborn bastard I refuse to seek medication or to seek other forms of release, such as therapy.  I do this mostly because, well, I feel that ADD is part of who I am, and therefore, being a logical and reasonable person I should be able to adjust or work around it without it destroying my life in the process.  The thing about me is that, well, I want to solve my own problems, in my own way.

There are many many article ideas for me right now, and a few that are sitting on the backburner.  They will be done, I’m sure, just not sure when exactly.  When my mind is focused on too many problems at once it’s difficult for me to be able to process it all.  Like, for example, people who may be speaking to me and saying something I find repulsive or terrible won’t realize it right away because I’m still processing it, and when I finally come to a conclusion it shocks them that it was the opposite of whatever it was they thought I was in agreement with.  I take my sweet time to consider things and then when I feel I’ve thought of every possible angle, then the decision comes.

This month I almost was fired from my job.  You see, what happened was this, at some point during the week I was asked to take the bank deposit for the store, this is a fairly normal operation and usually the bank bag is placed on the counter.  In this case, on this day, for whatever reason, after I signed the bank form … I left it on the counter.   You see I had other things that they had given me to do as well, and in the process of trying to handle my other duties, I forgot that one.  No big deal right?  Just swing back and grab the bag I thought.

Well it was gone.  Someone stole it.

So yeah, I signed the bank form so guess who nearly hanged for that one?  Yours truly.

Granted I made a mistake, but in my time working for the place I’ve been working at I have been written up a few times.  This makes lots of sense to me considering how much and how often every supervisior I’ve had has sang my praises.  Everyone knows how anal retentive I am about inventory, about paperwork, about doing everything right.  Everyone knows that I reminded them to take the bank bag every day because they needed in by noon and frequently forgot.  I have worked, very hard, for very little pay, and done lots of things that lots of people I’ve seen simply brush aside or forget.  I do a damn good job and yet, for whatever reason, find myself getting written up for bullshit.  So yeah I’m a little pissed off.

It’s impotent rage.  So I sat back and I thought, for the first time, in a long time.  I came close to losing a job I hate, yes.  I work hard.  I show up.  I do extra things, and yet, I get nothing but grief for my troubles.  My bosses after every write up are always like, oh it will be okay, your reputation saved you!  As if that’s supposed to make me feel better.  The investigaion into the bank deposit situation was approached as though I had stolen the bag, at least that’s the impression I got.  It’s my crap-ass job and I’d risk a few bucks (it was a small deposit) and some check I can’t cash to lose it right?  It wasn’t worth it, but that didn’t matter.  Frankly this reminds me of what happened at Mobil.  I bent over backwards for those sons of bitches, and they fired me in the most backhanded way and then denied me umployment stating I had quit after LYING about it during the hearing.  Then again, they could afford a lawyer and my poor ass couldn’t… what with being unemployed and all.

At first I was simply scared I’d lost my job.  Then I was angry that this was even a factor.  That I could be blamed for them using the counter as a place to put the bag, some days it would sit there for an hour or more.  That’s not the point though.

The point is that I hate working, not working as in being productive, rather I hate working for other people.  So I thought long and hard on this, the only chance I have to ever do anything with my life is to stop making bad choices.  I have purchased a printer, and have been printing four chapters of my book plus a synopsis.  I am going to mail these out starting Monday, because I realized that even if I fail at this, it’s better than sitting around waiting for a promotion at yet another job that simply either doesn’t appreciate my existence and work, or doesn’t give a damn.

It didn’t stop there though, I have come to the conclusion that my life has spiraled out of control.  I hate where I am.  I hate where I work.  I hate everything and I have let it come tot he point where I am so miserable that I do nothing to fix it and it has to stop.  There is not a single aspect of my life where i have any control over the situation so I am trying to deal with that, one step at a time.  So after I think more on this, I will start writing more, of that I assure you.

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