The point?

So I should be in bed right now. Or gaming. And I'm doing neither.

I've been wanting to write for about a week now, but have lost whatever passes for inspiration in my world. I never had a muse, so she hasn't left me. Everything has been so ... blah lately.

I can safely blame Corporation X for a good part of it, me for the rest of it. I was so fired up an entry or two ago about playing my game by my rules ... where the fuck did that go? But you reach a point where you get tired of fighting because it's easier to let things take their course. You compromise your principles to take the path of least resistance or, for fuck's sake, office politics. You know the right thing to do, but you don't do the right thing because you don't want to be called into the office or leave in a bad mood. Yet, these things happen anyway.

I've been here before. I'm not as low as I've been; I fucking refuse to let that happen. But the more time passes, I'm questioning myself and what the point is.

Part of it is knowing I'll be 35 next month. I did OK with 30 (aside from the puking, thanks for asking) but I'm hung up with 35 for some reason. Is it because I remember my mom when she was 35? Or because I remember the ex at 35, and how little he felt he had accomplished in life? Mom was pretty cool at 35 for a mom. The ex... 5 years ago, we had been married a year and life was good.

I had hoped to be somewhere else by now. My plan was to work at The Statesman for about 5 years and get back to a big paper. To get out of Idaho. Now, I don't have a reason to leave. My tribe is here and things aren't so bad when you're not lonely. I've got three of the best reasons to stay here, and sadly, none of those reasons are related to the current job. Related to a former job, but I won't bore you with details since you've all heard about how wonderful my man is.

Plans go awry, and I like to think I'm pretty adaptable. That doesn't mean I don't step back and question my life and what the fuck I'm here to do.

It still goes back to self-loathing, in the end. I've become what I despise and I don't know how to break out of it. I spend so much time doing what "they" say I need to do, and it's all I can do to keep up. Do more with less. Babysit, coach, be a shoulder to cry on, laugh, play, discipline, teach ... all of that for a little bit more than what I made chopping veggies and slinging sauce at FP. That was instant gratification. You knew when the customers were happy. When the crew had everything they needed before they needed it, you knew you did your job.

Honestly, I think I'm looking for something I will not find doing what I'm doing. I know this. But I still go because I care. I care when I don't care. What the fuck kind of curse is that? I want to save the good people and give the bad ones a chance, or at least enough rope for them to hang themselves with. I know that if people put forth the effort, they can do the work. But believing in people isn't enough. Wanting to do the right thing isn't enough. Doing what's required of you isn't enough. Yeah, it's old and tiring and fucking frustrating.

At the end of the day, I'm a cog in the machine, the number that Corp X needs to punch in more numbers and track the new numbers after the old numbers were sorted and dispersed into new groups of numbers. I don't feel like a number, not like I did a few months ago. I know my identity and I know my function, and that's what displeases me. I know what we're capable of, and like so many other jobs, I know we're on the cusp of great things. In Monterey, it was Pete. At the Statesman, where to point the finger? PD and Carolyn, for starters. The IPT, Ursula the Sea Witch herself. And now ... ?

There is always something that drives the good people away. In Monterey, I opened the door that four or five of my friends walked through. Boise showed 13 of us the door. JB got bounced, 2 fotogs left, Dusty left, I left and the march continued. And now ... ?

OK, for the drama-prone among you: I am not quitting my job. Not right now. I knew going in this wasn't a career for me. It's a paycheck working with products I love. It was easy money. I need to find the enthusiasm again. I need to be entertained. Then maybe I won't notice the layers of bullshit so much.

And for the emo-prone among you: I picked this song out of my NIN playlist.

Something I Can Never Have
i still recall the taste of your tears.
echoing your voice just like the ringing in my ears.
my favorite dreams of you still wash ashore.
scraping through my head 'till i don't want to sleep anymore.

[Chorus:]
you make this all go away.
you make this all go away.
i'm down to just one thing
and i'm starting to scare myself.
you make this all go away.
you make this all go away.
i just want something.
i just want something i can never have.

you always were the one to show me how.
back then i couldn't do the things that i can do now.
this thing is slowly taking me apart.
grey would be the color, if i had a heart.
come on and tell me.

[Chorus]

in this place it seems like such a shame.
though it all looks different now,
i know it's still the same.
everywhere i look you're all i see.
just a fading fucking reminder of who i used to be.
come on and tell me.

you make this all go away.
you make this all go away.
i'm down to just one thing
and i'm starting to scare myself.
you make this all go away.
you make it all go away.
i just want something.
i just want something i can never have.
i just want something i can never have.

And oddly enough, iTunes followed with this song, which was my anthem during the waning months at the IPT:

Every Day Is Exactly The Same
I believe I can see the future
Because I repeat the same routine
I think I used to have a purpose
Then again, that might have been a dream

I think I used to have a voice
Now I never make a sound
I just do what I've been told
I really don't want them to come around
Oh, no.

Every day is exactly the same
Every day is exactly the same
There is no love here and there is no pain
Every day is exactly the same

I can feel their eyes are watching
In case I lose myself again
Sometimes I think I'm happy here
Sometimes, yeah, I still pretend
I can't remember how this got started
But I can tell you exactly how it will end.

Every day is exactly the same
Every day is exactly the same
There is no love here and there is no pain
Every day is exactly the same

(spoken)
I'm writing on a little piece of paper
I'm hoping someday you might find
Well, I'll hide it behind something
They won't look behind

I am still inside here
A little bit comes bleeding through
I wish this could have been any other way
But I just don't know, I don't know,
What else I can do..

Every day is exactly the same
Every day is exactly the same
There is no love here and there is no pain
Every day is exactly the same

(chorus repeats)

Every day is the same!

Yeah. iTunes knows its shit. Needless to say, the absence of NIN on the iPod has been rectified.

Don't mind me. I'll get over it. Or something.