It’s my day off and I still feel fatigued. I slept a little, did a little homework, some around-the-house stuff (laundry, dishes, cleaning, etc). Nothing strenuous. I would have thought taken a nap would have helped.
But I’m feeling strangely exhausted. A little rudderless, too.
It’s a typical couple of feelings I would get when depression was setting in. Just annoyed with everything but not wanting to do anything — feeling that anything I am doing is worthless time wasting. By this description alone, it would seem I am consistently depressed—and I may well be.
I’m feeling I have to force myself to do just about anything otherwise I would be sleeping all day. I must be doing better than I used to: at least I CAN force myself to get things done. Full blown depression had me, in the past, doing zero things and laying under the covers all day into the next.
What’s going on isn’t exactly that and I can’t place it. Not quite depression. Not quite normal either.
Maybe it’s the holidays. While they don’t affect me like others, I still feel something of a loss. I miss my childhood around the holidays. My cousins. My grandmother. Life prior to 1983.
That kind of regressing will get me no where. I have a few assignments left before the end of this term (this coming Tuesday due date), and I had today to be finished with the bulk of them. I’m still a few things shy and its because I simply do not want to do shit. The little work I did do was a labor.
I guess I can’t call it being depressed because I have a little more going on than I used to. The academics. The job (sorta).
This feeling is chemical. I know that. My depression comes and goes like a cycle, in a way. It will pass, then it will be like a heavy cloud that lifted. I hate depression. I scuttled so much in life due to it’s effects on me. So much.
Thus I’m always starting over.
Not this time. I’ll fight through it. Just resign myself to finish things through. Go to work even though I don’t want to and finish the blueprint to this story I’m working on.
I meant to log a “How to Blueprint a story” in this journal but I lost interest in writing it.
Having a hard time with being at Walmart and I don’t know why it’s so bad. More than ever.
Actually, I know why. The usual: it’s Christmas season. The customers are assholes. The management are assholes. I’m not ‘managing’ my department the way I would like and I’m constantly fighting over creative control of how to put a fucking box on a shelf with the other management.
Really. I could set up a display or feature of items, and the next day, it’s taken down. Fuckers. If I can’t come to work with a desired purpose to get work done, without it being re-worked every time I turn, then it’s no wonder I feel the way I do. So, I come to work focusing on my own work (i.e, school, writing, etc) and Walmart just gets ‘enough’ during my shift.
It needs to be said, I never started into this position feeling this way. I wanted to give my all, but management is playing by a rule book that doesn’t allow me to be a leader. So fuck ‘em.
That said, for the past few days, I’ve been leaving early.
I’m on lunch now, but I already scheduled PTO (Paid Time Off) to leave at 1pm. It’s 11:28am. The goal is to go back to work after lunch, work an hour, and go home at 1pm. I’m off tomorrow. I was scheduled to 4pm. It’s not a cool environment to work on a Saturday at a Walmart during the holidays. They have no cashiers so their asking Department Managers to come up front. Bad enough I can’t stand customers as it is.
Speaking of customers, let me give a snapshot of the shit I commonly have to deal with:
* An associate buys an un-assembled bike. She brings it back because she wants the one that was pre-built. No problem. I bring her the exact same bike and she thinks its too small. Fine, she goes and gets another pre-built bike. It’s the same maker and name, but bigger. The original bike was 12 inches. The new one is 20 inches. She’s wanting the 20-inch bike for the same amount of money as the 12 inch. Myself and everyone else are like: “No.” But she, again another employee, is looking to speak to management to get the price changed.
* Customer is looking to buy her son a weight set. She wants the tilted platform with rack. I tell her the “Weights and the bar for the weights do not come with the rack, but we sell them separately.” She doesn’t want them separately and scoffs at the price of the weights and bar against the rack. Of course the rack will be cheaper than the weights. I told her to shop around for cheaper weights but this is how they sell them here. If the bitch wanted the weights included, she’d be paying three times as much.
What I’m finding is many adults really hate shopping for kids. And they do the worst thing possible: a slow inspection of a toy they’re going to buy and judging it based on whether or not THEY would like it. It’s ridiculous to see—watching people study a fucking Nerf gun and making decisions if they, themselves, would like it. It’s true. I hear them all the time: “Oh, I don’t like this toy, but it’s on their list.” or “It’s for my daughter. I wouldn’t play with it.”
Another issue is the customer that comes in asking me “Would I get this toy for a 5 year old kid?”
First of all, you got to be an asshole if you think every five year old kid is the same as your bratty fuck kid. The fucking kid down the block will want different toys than another kid. What does YOUR specific kid want?
Second, when I DO give a recommendation, why the fuck would you tell me “No, he wouldn’t like it.” Especially if your ass doesn’t know what a five year old wants in the first place?
To all fucked up customers that shop at ANY retail, I say this: Stop asking for recommendations for your kid. We don’t know your bastard ass sperm-result. We don’t want to know your fucking kid and if anyone dares to even suggest an item for your kid, stop acting as if you know if your kid would like it or not.
If you DID know what your kid likes, you’d just get the fucking toy and stop being cheap bastards. Cause you KNOW the kid asked for Xbox in the first place so you’re just trying to dumb down.
Sigh.
I’m off in an hour. Off tomorrow. Will finish the last of my school work for this term and focus on what’s important because Walmart and the customers suck ass.
On a brighter note, I’m fleshing out another novel concept. A story I have had for years (in addition to the hundreds of others locked up). But I feel this is the right time to work this particular story. I’ll try not to make the mistakes of the past novel by planning it better, get it done faster and with tighter edits the first time around.
So, I went to the observation class … and you guessed it … that churning annoyance overwhelmed me: Do I really want to be in an environment with other people? Least of all, being touched by another person. Cause, without a doubt, if you’re going to learn a martial art, it’s a contact sport and like Mike Tyson once said, “Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face.”
My personal “punch in the face” is the reality that I don’t want to be around anyone. Also, I see I have an anger that isn’t appropriate for ‘sparring’. Which is why I never liked play fighting while growing up. A rage thing that understands the only reason to fight someone is to hospitalize the opponent. People with better control are apt to sparring and play fighting better than I could.
So that defeats my desires to study a martial art and I was fairly upset about it last night. I sat there cringing: the idea of needing to “pair up” with a partner … practice forms — “team up” and “work with your partner” … vile concepts that made me want to throw up.
Yeah. That’s the POINT of studying a martial art. You can’t study alone in some mountain top without knowing the feeling of throwing an opponent. You need to adapt your body to randomness of power, weight and motion of another human being.
All of which repulsed me. More than I expected. I mean, come on. I did it before. I took Aikido, Karate, Judo, etc, etc over my lifetime — regardless of how brief. But then again, this might have explained my lack of interest back then. I LOVE the concept of martial arts. The beauty of the styles and concepts.
I hate the people. Any people.
Perhaps I couldn’t identify it when I was younger. But here I am, a crotchety old and getting older man and it’s worse than ever. There’s an inner me that is screaming that I want to “join” and “be part of” with others — in marital arts. At Toastmasters.
But when I show up, I get hives. Self conscious. Fear about how I look or what I said wrong.Then I spend days later replaying every wrong thing I said or analyzing what someone may have said to me. Like a constantly damning recording of my own blooper reel.
And then it all translates to ‘hate’ of being around people.
Even if nothing happened in reality. Somehow, my mind makes a mountain out of a molehill. I know this. I can’t help it. So, that was the prime reason to study a martial art as well: control of all of this shit.
But if GOING to a dojo brings anxiety alone … then what the fuck??? How the hell will I get anything done?
You know, while I sat there at the observation class, the instructor, who apparently was taught by the guy who was taught by Bruce Lee, talked about Bruce’s style and such. I was thinking about why I couldn’t find one solid Wing Chun instructor — high in a mountain — that I could call master for three-five years, then come back from this mountain with a whole new skill set.
Knowing me, if said mountain top instructor decided to take on a second student, I’d quit. The fuck am I going to do?
On other notes, this has generally been a good week. Money was tight going into Christmas so I cashed in on an old 410(k) plan I had with Apple. I left a size-able amount there, but I took, like $1,000 out ($700.00 after all the fucking taxes and fees) plus cashed out the Walmart stock I had. Each pay period it deposits more anyway so I needed the money to get things for the holidays. If I didn’t do it when I did it, we would have had some financial issues here.
Even bought us a Christmas tree. I mean, we get one every year. This year was a little different. We did a really classic thing yesterday: cut our own tree. I impressed my wife with my outdoors man skills lol. A nice 7-footer and really full.
This tree kind of symbolizes how I have been feeling much of this year. Without counting my erratic hate for people, my life this year has been full, well founded and lit up. With presents about to be placed. Some would say, equally, ‘cut down, destined to die and shedding’ …. I choose to look at the upside of the tree/life symbol.
Got us a much needed couch/sleeper so when my kids get here, they aren’t subjected to the damn air mattresses again. It should be here by Tuesday.
This will be my first Christmas that I actually bought my kids things. All others was paid for my wives past and I hated that dependency. Still, as much as I want to get things for them, I’m trying to create a balance where, after the holidays, I’ll have some money in reserve. It’s almost impossible.
But, I’m still working. Even as close to the edge I am of quitting or getting fired, I’m still working and coming up on six months at Walmart in January.
How’s school? The same: 4.0 GPA. All assignments in on time and written with extensive efforts. I’m in the last week of this term for English 107 and Presentations 111. The next class starts late December after a few days Christmas break. I think I saw it was “Careers in Criminal Justice” and something else. Forgot what it was. What I do know: a “Math” class is on the near horizon and this is where we start seeing my grades plummet.
Actually, that’s not a fair assessment. I’ve been doing gangbusters these past months and I refuse to let it change.Just that Math and I have been bitter enemies for eons.
Aside from that, it’s fucking odd how going back to school has been a breeze. Sounds cocky, I know. Math is coming. It’ll put me back in perspective. Another form of being “hit in the face”, per se.
You know, I think I know what the problem is. I need to exercise but the act of exercising to no definable goal has always annoyed me.
But I do like martial arts.
I’m scheduling an observation class coming up to watch a class on Wing Chun. I’ll likely sign up for the no-contract monthly payment plan. I think this would help me expend this restless anger I have going on—plus the needed workout.
I’m actually much more partial to Aikido, but right now, that’s too passive of a style.
Combined with the archery, I’ll be a surprisingly well-rounded warrior (smile). Provided I ever start going to archery like I was supposed to.
Let’s not bring up Toastmasters again.
So, this is the plan: start going to a martial arts class. Get into the ‘thing’ of being around people with the added benefit of punching someone. Fine…call it sparring. Maybe this will relax me and translate it toward being social and going to Toastmasters and archery.
One other consideration: I want to learn an instrument. The guitar, in particular. I think these restlessness issues will work itself out by doing more. No…I mean it…actually doing.
I have to keep reminding myself “I am not retail orientated.”
I have to keep pushing myself to be “law” focused. At best, right now, academically focused until it’s time to focus on LSAT/law school ambitions. Some would argue, right now.
I’m having trouble adjusting to the suppression of the career that I want. You can say, “Oh, go ahead and be a filmmaker.” I tried for more than half my lifetime and produced nothing but failed memories that went no further than where I started. The attempt to be a filmmaker, for me, has been nothing but an uphill battle of near zero support and little to no money. Attempting to shift to animation to offset assistance and expense also fell flat with barely anyone even looking at my work. I guess you can say I have zero confidence that I was even a good animator.
One can also argue that it’s my fault because I have no confidence in the things I do.
I’m back to why I’m going back to school and law: because it’s a serendipitous ease of passage.
I had little trouble achieving the work I’m doing right now, in academic work, and passing some of the practice LSAT tests compared to getting my films off the ground. Or my books.
Another argument could be made: Gaining the approval of an audience is harder than performing linear instructions to achieve a degree.
I don’t know. Today, I feel confused and lifeless. I’m supposed to be working on a paper for class. I’m bored with the whole school concept like when I was growing up. I’m still on time with my work but this life is stale. Uninspired. Combined with working at Walmart, i feel trapped and without creativity, which is my core value: being creative.
Is my work so bad that I can’t capture the attention of more than a handful of people?
Granted, with almost everything I did, it was self-taught. There are greater talented people out there that taught themselves things and are working for major companies.
I’m willing to take classes on animation or film-making to improve. I often feel that studying animation to get a ‘certificate’ doesn’t guarantee you job placement. Getting my bachelors in criminal justice ‘might’ fill in that hole. To get people to look at my work, at least., even though the degree has nothing to do with the work. But I’ve been saying that for ages: why do I need a degree at all if I have the talent? Most companies won’t look unless you have a degree.
Or maybe I don’t have the talent.
Troubled, troubled, troubled. Again, I’ve selected the path of law because of the money and serendipitous blessings its giving. Finally something I can put in effort and see results. Without too much thinking. I wanted that with my film career. And in that I put my heart with no results.
Sigh.
What I have been attempting to do … to ease my restless soul … is re-invite my film/animation/writing aspirations back into the fold by taking it back on regardless. It makes me happy, so why stop? Doing an act just to do it for your pleasure without an audience isn’t logical. At least not in entertainment. The point is to ‘entertain’ others. Not just yourself.
Can I possible work hard enough to achieve the bachelors degree and study animation to get a certificate; build a truly professional reel and incorporate everything I need and want? To what end goal? Bachelors to cover my ass. Animation to cover my heart. Law to cover my expenses. Film making to cover my dreams.
It’s a lot. Keep in mind, as of this date, I STILL haven’t attended another Toastmasters meeting. Or paid recent dues. What makes me think I can juggle two separate career studies?
But I am bored. I need a little life injection.
Also I can’t afford it: going to a second school requires out of pocket expenses that I simply can’t pay for. Self-study all this time produced zero results without a teacher to correct and show.
Sometimes, I feel my life was wasted. I thought any talent I had would accumulate to a successful life. It hasn’t. What do I do with all this wasted untalented knowledge?
That’s the heartbreak of it all.
Then again, that’s the problem with things that come easy: I may be doing this school work and getting A’s and a perfect GPA with honors … but I feel I’m not earning it. When I was doing film and animation and struggled to succeed, I was getting no attention and no ‘applause’ … but I felt I earned whatever I did get.I just wanted more.
Suffice to say, working with ANYONE is killing me. I’m officially incapable of negotiating with, working with, leading and being led by other people. Constantly battling common sense verses peoples ridiculous egos and poor leadership. Having no power creates conflict and who wants the power to lead these idiots?
If it’s not Walmart, it’s even at my university. I have a bitch-of-a-professor teaching Presentation 111. You can’t say anything without her arrogant ass snapping at you other students. She’s a fucked up teacher and I have to stick to the letter of the law in order to get around this cunt. This is the same one that fucked me with the B- until she realized she wasn’t grading correctly.
The less I have to deal with her the better. Just a week left anyway.
But you see, I can go through life CONSTANTLY saying: I don’t have to work with so-n-so for long. Just a few more days. Just a few more months. Just a few more years. The question is: when will the people you work with fucking grow up or lead better? When will they change? The answer is never and you’re dealt with learning to have to deal with stupidity instead of stupidity needing to change.
Now, alternatively, stupidity is relative. They could be thinking they are on the right path. My judgement of shit that isn’t working is based on how much shit rolls downhill to me that I have to deal with. Miscommunication. Combative upper management with conflicting orders.
Cunt teachers that have an attitude all the time.
I’d ask myself how I dealt with past jobs when I had such conflict and you’ll then know why I had so many jobs over my life time. I can’t leave this one. Not again. But I’m angry. Always angry. I dread going into the job. I have no outlet to scream, yell, punch …nothing.
I am happy with the progress with my education, though. Of course, I love my children.Knowing that I have insurance for them and some money coming in every two weeks is reassuring. These are the things that stay my anger. Not for long, though. Tomorrow is another day. I have to go in.
I’m doing homework and assignments due tonight. I’m sitting on this idea to give the regional and store manager a health report of my department at Walmart that would end up feeling like a thesis for school. I’m sitting on it because it means I’m committing myself to giving a fuck about Walmart if I write it. But Walmart doesn’t give a fuck about me so why should I produce a 20 page ‘what I want to do for my department’?
Especially if retail isn’t my end goal.We confirmed that weeks ago. This is temporary. Just two ½ more years. (Eyes rolling).
On other news, I’m noticing that the world is in turmoil. Much more than usual. In recent months, maybe over the past year and a half, it seems like a nationalist movement is taking over globally and, recently, old racial differences are flaring up. Even major political figures are claiming “times were better in the past, even though there was slavery.” (Roy Moore, Alabama). And this man isn’t shot dead yet? Nope, as of this date, he might even win a major race going on in Alabama right now.
Trump is president and the world just gotten eviler. People are being outed on sexual harassment charges daily. Politicians admitting to sexual harassment are still thinking they’ll stay in office. Trump himself wins the office even though he said blatantly foul things.
But President Obama was forced to reveal his birth certificate to prove he was American.
White nationalists, the new PC term for racist bastard, need to be eradicated. Sooner than later, they’re going to get the war they’re looking for by doing something stupid. Odd thing is, for eight years, they had a chance to do so with president Obama in office. I’m sure he had more than his fair share of death threats; but that exemplifies the cowardice of these nationalists. They waited until someone like Trump to get in office to talk big. I don’t recall this much noise for eight years. Not like this. For eight years, Blacks in this county came behind President Obama and showcased for all to see we outnumber them.
Which is the problem with the brainwashing of ‘voting’. A group of people put one man in office, they think they are the majority. Trumps in office because the majority DID NOT VOTE. I think I covered this in a previous post.
Look, I can figure things out enough to say the world is burning and I can’t do anything about it. Even if Trump was assassinated, the whole mode of world events will only herald a darker, worse series of events that likely lock down everything. Truth be told, Trump and the White Nationalists don’t directly affect me. At least, not until I get into a law firm. Walmart does and I’m much more aggravated by the people that work there than world events. I can’t solve world hunger. I can make sure my kids eat.
This is why people put on blinders. You have to disconnect. Otherwise you’ll be angry all the time.
Update: December 14th 2017
Roy Moore LOST the Alabama Senate race. Why? Because the majority — African-Americans — turned out and voted. Proof, as I mentioned, it’s not that Trump won by majority. It’s more like the majority didn’t vote. He won by what’s left over. By default cause Blacks, really didn’t vote for Clinton either. If a qualified Black politician (underscore—qualified), ran for president against Trump, he would have been a distant joking memory.
“ …a full 96 percent of Black voters in Alabama Tuesday supported Jones, including 98 percent of African-American women. “Black women led us to victory. Black women are the backbone of the Democratic party,” Democratic National Committee chairman Tom Perez tweeted Wednesday morning, “and we can’t take that for granted. Period."
I usually don’t like the holidays. These days, being in retail, it’s the worst. Customers, or at least from this area of Georgia, are living breathing assholes that don’t give a fuck. Imagine leaving a full cart of chicken in a shopping cart (buggy, depending on what side of the swam south you’re from)…in the toy aisle. That’s across the store only to leave it there. Fucking animals.
On other notes, I let my mother know I achieved dean’s list and she sounded genuinely proud of me. I can’t understand why I’m cautious with her. Past hurt I guess. I’ll take her on her word.
My wife is home so I feel better than I did the other weekend. Odd how I let her absence bother me so.
I started the first steps of building that website to help find missing people. I think I titled the site appropriately. I have the domain name and I’m sketching out how I’m posting and adding data to the site with contributions down the line.
In order to ignore the shit storm that is Walmart, I really need to get my head wrapped around success at my school work and the idea of being a private investigator/lawyer. I go to work pissed knowing I can’t accomplish anything there. Why should I even be concerned with that damn job?
Need the money. Need the insurance.
I can get those things in a better career. Until I can make headway, I’m just biding my time.
But I do have to give the job the best I can while I’m there, and it turns out that even that is cockblocked by poor, confused upper management.
I considered writing my regional manager for the store a paper. Something to the effect: “The problem with our store and how to fix it”. I’d send it anonymously.
Would it matter? Why would I take the time to write that when I have papers in school to finish. Fuck Walmart, right?
Always a thin line between saying ‘fuck the job you’re at’ and ‘needing to do a good job to keep it’. I’ve never been that good at doing a basic job. Others seemed to master it: just showing up. Doing just enough.
Christmas is coming. I get to have some of my kids with me for the holidays. That’s always special to me. This year I’ll actually have money to get them something for Christmas.
To that end alone: I am grateful for being at Walmart.
Coming from a guy that has made it his business not to like being around people, I am dreadfully lonely today. Actually this weekend.
My wife went to New York to visit her mother. During this time, Friday to Monday, I fairly lost my mind. She is my only close friend. I talk to her about almost everything and her companionship, apparently, has been vital to me.
So what do I do? Start looking through old pictures. Past marriage(s). The good times with the kids. Feeling sadness for the implosion I had a lot to do with.
Falling into sorrow.
I can’t say I miss my ex, but I can say I miss the family we had. The house. The life.
Donna and I are building on that now – sans children – but something tells me that I’ll never have it good as I did when I was in the house.
I know Monica (the ex) and I weren’t ever going to see eye to eye on things. I don’t miss ‘her’. I miss the experience. Just wish it was different ‘her’.In the life I have now, I have more control of how things will go.
That’s what I have to remember and be grateful for. I am in control of my life whereas it was her life and I was living in it.
The things I’m missing are the things I need to build for myself.
Just that I feel I am getting older. That youthful window is fading and I “shot my load” sort of speak between 2004 and 2012.
I’m confirming that I will be following a career that involves a private investigation license and searching for missing people. It’s back with a law degree—becoming an attorney. No wavering over the subject anymore. My entire focus is in this direction from now on.
Having said that, what makes me think I am capable of finding missing people in the first place? Like, why ‘that’ of all things.
Well, cause I have a knack for it. I wanted to submit this journal entry with evidence, pictures and details of a missing persons case I ‘almost’ solved. Couldn’t find them or the report I made on it so I’ll have to let it slide. It was a 2012 case on a woman named Stacey English.
I came real close, too. Approximately a couple of hundred feet from finding her body if I explored across a street. They will have found her body a few days after I searched the same area.
Prior to that, I had to find my own children. I won’t downplay how nefarious my ex’s intentions were. She kidnapped my kids from me and I found her in Albany, GA. I tracked her down using every possible backtracking trick in the book— regardless of the lack of help I got from people in her family. Or my own.
Long, LONG drawn out story I don’t want to repeat. Suffice to say, this is why I am in Georgia now.
I suppose the ‘secret sauce’ to finding anyone is no different than any good detective work: asking the right questions.
I believe in the power of asking (and answering) controlled questions… deductive reasoning… creating a reasonable profile of data that can only conclude in a possible direction.
I even had an app idea that helped ask the right questions you need to find someone based on the data given. Almost A.I., cause the questions need to evolve with the information provided. It was just an ‘idea’. I’m not savvy enough to program it myself. Maybe I am. It’s just outside the current academic scope right now.
What I will be doing, to sharpen the ideals or, at best, keep my finger on the pulse of missing person trends, is start profiling individual cases and writing a list of questions that some might not have thought to ask. Which is usually always the case.
Maybe that’s what I should do instead of creating an app. A website, devoted to missing persons profiles with answerable questions for people to respond to. For the time, I could sort out the trolling bullshit from the genuine possible answers.
Sounds unusual, all of this, but if I didn’t have a measure of success and interest in doing this, I wouldn’t work on it. I only have a handful of things I am certifiably good at. This and archery are the top two.
I bitch so much about Walmart, I don’t really cover what’s going on with my grades/school.
When I last spoke about that robbery getting a B- in that class, in the OTHER class I’m taking, ENG107, I got a B+ for some little shit I don’t remember but I know I deserved it. No need to fight over it.
I’m still at 4.0 GPA.
The problem is the details required are anal as hell. There are very specific ways you are supposed to cite/reference in APA format and it sucks maximum ass.Ask me if I will be citing and referencing 3 ½ years from now?
Possibly…if I intend to go to law school.
This is where I’m at these days. With my absolute resolve hating Walmart, I need to make sure I planted firmer ground in the ‘real’ career choice. I spoke a great deal about law in the beginning. My issue is the reality that I hate, HATE working with people — all people. Any human being.
So how do I get that to change? How do I find ways not to be annoyed by sheer stupidity of the average person?
If you’re reading this, your saying: “you can’t. Deal with it.”
I’m saying “I must find a way.” Even now, the ENG107 teacher recommended I work with a fellow student on an assignment. My initial and current feelings on that are “bullshit. Never gonna happen.”
Sooner or later, there’s going to be a group project. I swear to God, I do not look forward to that day. How I usually handle group ‘anything’ is to just sit back and watch the comedy of group implosion. I don’t offer suggestions and just follow whomever is left when the dust settles.
I fair better as a leader of a group—-but I don’t field suggestions. Nothing is up for debate. Shut the fuck up and we’re going this way to finish the project. Any suggestions are heard but we’re on a path to a goal and there’s little time for debate. In fact, no time.
I can relate to why dictatorship works. People are assholes and you’ll get nothing done with a committee.
I’ve been wondering ‘what am I going to do’ in this life if I can’t manage working with another person. How can I possibly move forward?
What’s that? Open my own business? Tried that. For me, didn’t work.
Huh? Things are different now that I’m an educated negro now getting a bachelor’s degree? A bachelor’s degree in criminal justice could get me into a private investigators role and I could conceivably work for myself?
These are the thoughts that I’m dealing with lately. Attempting to answer an undefined future.
I have always had a gravitation toward finding missing people. Maybe even a talent for it. Like archery — who knew I was good till I tried it. Same with finding missing people. Long story. Another time.
So, with the bachelor’s degree, I can obtain a private investigators license. Do I want to track cheating spouses? No. Not interested. I do want to find missing people because I can. Not sure how the financial outlook is for that kind of work, though.
Law School still makes sense because it’s clearly defined. That’s why its not off the table yet. Having both a PI license and a law degree sounds splendid, in my opinion. I could get law degree, get paid sufficiently and find a private hole in the wall to do administrative work that doesn’t allow me to interact with too many people — while searching for people as my other job. Being a defense attorney isn’t my first passion. Helping civil rights issues, even just administratively—-or hunting down people to help for the case— sounds reasonable.
It’s all frustrating. I feel like that kid trying to come up with ‘what I want to do when I grow up.’ It’s a shame….I haven’t grown up yet.
myJournal 