The Squeaky Wagon

I realize it's been nine days since I posted getoffmyback. I'm trying to get back into posting regularly, so you can clap your "ITZ ABOUT TIME!!!!" messages right now. Shp!

Anywho, I have a gross eye infection. (Aren't you glad you tuned in?) It's a bacterial infection that makes my eyes crusty and red and it's completely disgusting. I went into work and apparently I looked god-awful because they sent me to a doctor and I haven't been to work since. This was Monday. The doctor said that until my eyes stop being gunky, I am still contagious. Working in a bank is probably the worst place to work with something horribly contagious because then I would be infecting my colleagues and about one hundred customers per day. "Thank you for banking with Scotiabank! Don't forget your complimentary infectious disease!" Radical.

I've been sitting at home, catching up with my old friend Video Games, napping, talking on the phone. Yesterday, I even did laundry! Oh, the productivity astonishes me! I've also been applying for jobs and getting absolutely nowhere. There are so many jobs that need diplomas and degrees and since I'm going to be working for another year, I'm stuck applying for a greater minority of jobs that I'm not even getting call-backs for. Discouraging to say the least, but as my dislike for banking grows, so does my motivation to get the hell away from savings accounts and GICs.

I should probably clean. My kitchen is a disaster, but at least it being a disaster makes the rest of my apartment look deceivingly clean. I also should count how many times in the last four years I have mentioned in my blog that my apartment is a mess. I'm guessing about 10% of the time.

(The other ninety, I just kept it to myself.)

--Jam

And Then Comes Rejection

I had such a bad day at work today. My colleagues' incompetence grew to a new high today when I was basically left to run the entire service side of the branch by myself, unsupervised. It lasted for about an hour, an excruciating hour of a never-ending line. The day ended with the hand of the manager coming down on us for doing everything wrong, and the head teller doing no work except bitching and whining, leaving me to leave the bank around 5.30.

Needless to say, I had a bad day.

My crush came in again today. He smiled at me, went out of his way to make eye contact and be friendly. Kept glancing back at me while he was being served by someone else. Giving me very pleasant signs, but still made me frustrated that I couldn't do anything about it.

The bad day ends, far too late, and I decide "screw this -- I'm asking him out". I went up the street to his work, went up the elevator (holding in both barf and red cheeks), exited the elevator and bumped right into him. He gave me a warm, welcoming smile and this is what happened:

Him: *surprise* Hey! What's up?
Me: Hey! I was looking for you. I was just wondering if you wanted to go for a drink.
Him: What?
Me: A drink. I've had a day and I'd love to go for a drink.
Him: Oh. No, I think I'm good.
Me: Oh.
Him: Thanks though.
Me: *talking far too quickly -- abort! abort!* Yeah, no, that's okay. Takecarebye.

Then I jumped in the elevator, then jumped on the phone with Sarah and vented for near an hour.

...CRAP! Ugh. Men.

I don't understand! He flirted with me for weeks, and I finally get up the courage to ask him out and I'm flat-out turned down. Super.

Half of me is upset I put myself out there to be rejected and disappointed, but the other half is actually kind of satisfied that I actually did it. I don't think I have ever asked someone out like that.

Maybe he just didn't want to drink or something. Fingers crossed he comes in tomorrow and asks me to marry him.

Hey, it could happen!

--Wishful Jam

Citrus Fruit

Hey peeps.

So as you've noticed, I've caught the blogging bug again. I just feel like I need to keep writing or I'm going to lose it. I don't really know what it is, but it's something.

I have ten posts left until I reach 600 on Jam's Blog, and then I'll be closing it down. It's time to move on to something else. Jam's Blog has been an amazing sanctuary for my thoughts, my desires, my dreams, and my friends, but all good things come to end, says Ms. Furtado, and I believe her.

Ten more posts of whatever comes my way, followed by a compilation of what Jam's Blog has actually accomplished, followed by the opening of Crimson Lime.

Wait for it.
Jam

Haha! Citrus Fruit. Get it? It's me! Ahahaha. Oh boy.

Little Robots

You need to see Wall-E. Like, right now.

I don't want to give it away so I'm not going to do a review. I just want to tell you how much I completely and overwhelmingly loved it.

Go now!



--Jam

Super Mega Hyper Crush

My name is Jam and I have a crush.

This isn't really an ordinary crush. It's huge. A stomping on small villages, rampaging through bunny-infested forests type of crush. And I don't know how much longer I can contain it.

He comes into the bank about four days a week. It's a standard bring a deposit in, check the mail, see him on his way. There are dozens of people that come in day-in, day-out, so the tellers tend to build a small friendship with the regulars. But, he stands out. He's very shy, about my height, and has the best smile I can imagine.

It took me forever to start talking to him; partially because I knew my face was as red as magma, and partially because saying anything more than a pubertyesque "hello" made my face escalate to lava. I took a leap a few weeks back and realized that he's fantastic. Charming-but-quiet, but interesting.

We chat about his job, my job, his weekend, my weekend, his new hair, my new obsession with him. (Oh, wait, we haven't gotten there yet.) Part of me feels strange that I like a guy I hardly know, but the other part is fully embracing and obsessing. There's a sense of compassion and adventure in him that are so compelling -- it's hard to explain.

I think I'm experiencing love-at-first-sight, as cliché as it sounds. I see in him precisely what I want in a guy. Someone who presents himself just like that in an everyday public setting, and who, I think, thinks I'm cute. (That's always important!)

Now comes the hard part. (Pun intended.) I'm about 90% sure he's my kind of man. I'm afraid that if I ask him to go for lunch or something, he'll awkwardify and never talk to me again. But, I think it's worth the risk? I mean, if my calculations are correct, ninety is a damn fine number.

I'm going to ask him out. Just casually, a "would you want to go for lunch or drinks sometime?", give him my card when he politely says yes, which he will either way, and leave it up to him. (And pray to Jebus above, below, or anywhere in the middle, that he calls ASAP so I don't have eight billion heart attacks every time my phone rings.)

Wish me luck!

--Jam

PS: Bunny-infested -- you heard me!

Twenty-Three Years and I'm Going Off the Deep End

I look at other people, when they smile, and wonder what makes them so happy. Are they smiling in the same way I'm smiling, with a current joy and an overwhelming discomfort at other points of their day? Or are they truly content, laughing with the others who have figured it out?

I haven't figured it out. It is too complicated and I don't feel like I'll ever get to a point where it will unveil itself to me and I will finally feel as though I've mastered it. I'm a two-time college dropout; once for academic reasons, the other for financial reasons. I thought I had finally figured that part out until I ran out of money and wound up in a small apartment in Toronto, working in the furthest field from my own as I can fathom. I'm now as stuck as ever, working with people with no ambition, under people with little compassion, for a company with no creative drive. I am becoming the person I hate, with dying aspirations and an agonal hope for something better out of life.

Alas, I know what I want, but have no means to get it. With parents who refuse to help and have ostracized me for reasons undisclosed to me, I have, in the past, found financial refuge in my grandfather. Again, I have called out to him and am waiting for an answer. I feel like a failure, not able to simply continue up the ladder of any field that pays out a dollar. I need fulfillment. I need something to latch onto so I can feel as though I'm accomplishing something in life. I feel as though there's something inside me, something that should shine, but is being blinded by the darkness all around me.

I am thankful to have some terrific people in my life. Sarah, Athena, Natalie, Lindsay, Lilly, Michelle. Nameless, they would still know who they are. Yet, I fall to the sad conclusion that the latter two are going to school where I wish I was, the prior live outside the boundaries of my city of financial drive, so I am left with no one here, save the few acquaintances I have grown to accept and/or tolerate here.

So, do I find another job for the time being? What if I get into a job I also despise and am left with a situation worse than the one I'm in. (I can't possibly imagine that, but I suppose someone could pop the air mattress-of-a-life I've been sleeping on.)

I... just don't know what to do.

Yay emo blog.

--Jam