Unhappy should be my middle name.

I always hear people complain about working in retail, and somehow, I was happier working there than I am now. 

I worked at a bookstore, it wasn’t great and my boss made me anxious as fuck because he was a massive git that for a reason unknown to me, despised me, but I was more comfortable than I am now, in that bookstore I was less unhappy. I know why that is, because I love books, and I know my fair amount about them, it was within my comfort zone. I earned half of what I earn now, and if this doesn’t prove that money can’t buy happiness, then I don’t know what can.

I also worked very briefly as a secretary, and I was more comfortable then than I am now, and I had to answer the phone a lot. 

Now, I work in a BTL agency, and I’m so fucking uncomfortable and unhappy all the time. The worst is I get along very well with my coworkers, better than in all my previous workplaces, but somehow, I’m always tense, always holding my breath and waiting for the shoe to drop. I’m barely ever home now, I work from 10am to whenever I finish work for the day, sometimes, that is 2am or later. I barely spend time with my cats, I don’t have time to watch shows or read or paint, and I want to paint so badly. Sometimes I also have to work on weekends. And I am so damn tired all the time. 

Back in retail, I rarely ever thought “I don’t want to go to work”, but now, every Sunday the only thing I can think of is that: I don’t want to go to work. 

The only thing I can think of is that I want to die, that I want to kill myself. And I’m so damn tired and stressed and angry and uncomfortable and so so so so tired. God. 

I wish I could simply read books, write and paint all day. I wish money wasn’t a problem. I wish I could go to college and study something. 

I wish I didn’t feel so damn alienated all the time. I wish I didn’t feel like I owed everyone my life. 

I wish I could simply cease to exist.


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