I don’t know where this post will go, I know it wont be like my normal writing. This is more of a finger diarrhea. So much has happened in my life the past week or so.
Where to start? Well a couple weeks back I quit my job. I absolutely loathed the place. They abuse the FLSA exempt status of their salary employees. There were weeks I put in 60, 70, even 90 hours without much compensation. I had a racist employee whom even after I filed a complaint on still is employed by the company. I am not one to pull out the race card. I think it is one of the most overused “whoa is me” excuses. But she made many of my customers uncomfortable with her derogatory words towards Hispanics. Along with literally telling me I am nothing but a, “Fucking Fat Mexican!” That is unacceptable. While I was a supervisor, I tried to get the company to raise the pay of future employees because hiring and keeping quality employees was difficult. It wasn’t a good environment for me to be in, and I had to leave. I have yet to find a job but I am looking.
I started a relationship that I am not sure where it is going yet, but I love her face to the moon and back, and I am not comfortable putting any more than that for everyone to read so I will leave it at that.
My great uncle was admitted to the hospital this past week. I came to visit him and he isn’t doing well. He and I havent always had a solid relationship, but he is my Oma’s only brother, I do love him, and I worry about her. I accepted my own mortality a long time ago. I continuously stare down Death, tell him to fuck off and today is not the day he gets to take me. But when I am in the presence of a family member I grew up knowing and having conversations with laying looking helpless, with that asshole Death standing in the corner, it is hard to deal with. It is harder when I am dealing with my anxiety issues.
I am not comfortable going to church. I go with my family to keep my mother happy. I have my own spirituality that I am happy with and it isn’t the way that my mom isn’t happy with but she accepts. Anyway, A couple of times I have gone to church, I have had really bad anxiety attacks. This morning was one of them. I am not sure what triggers them. I attribute them to being in the middle of the pew surrounded by people I don’t know. I feel trapped, and tears start pouring from my eyes. I don’t feel sad, but I can’t help from crying. I hate it. I don’t like crying, I don’t like feeling hopeless.
So I sit here on my sister’s couch, it is my second home, drinking a KCCO White wheat, spewing continuously what seems to be a bunch of just random thoughts. DGAF.
Till later days.