why the fuck did I think I could do this?
over the weekend, in an attempt to offer me advice and encouragement, Brian commeneyed, “it’s just like school. so you know what you have to start doing again, right?” I responded, with mostly sincerity, “cutting…?”
after laughing at the delivery and despite himself, he disagreed. “study.”
and he’s right. except there’s no homework examples to be bringing home; it all must be learnt in the lab. and the entire process is very specific to this firm. they way they have certain accounts broken up, etc.
I can tell my supervisor was very frustrated with my performance this afternoon. I royally fucked up shit. I mean, we got it sorted out. but still, I forced him to have to do twice as much work on a task he shouldn’t have been having to do any.
they want me to become a notary public. this was not mentioned in the job interview. I don’t think I can, on account of the DUIs.
I almost walked in front of a speeding car this afternoon. on purpose. is that being parasuicidal again? I mean, I obviously didn’t do it. but there was a legit jerk in my step wherein I had to remind myself that supposedly suicide is not the answering.
which is fair. because I think suicide is the question. and for me, the answer should be “yes”.
instead, I’ll go home and cut a lot. or drink. (I try not to combine them anymore.) I also intend to make an SI travel pack again — blade, bandaids, and tiny neosporin. stays in the purse. for emergencies of the self-hatred kind.