I demand a do-over on my high school days. That’s right, I
want to go back to having acne prone skin, an unhealthy obsession with Robert
Smith of the Cure and being virtually invisible to anyone with a penis. I want
to spend my days dreading 3rd period (PE - because I’m fat and it’s
hard to walk with a book bag let alone run) and the only time of day I’m
comfortable is lunch because I spend that time smoking with the stoners at the
car wash across the street.
*sings “Working at the car wash (oh oh, yeah yeah) at the car
wash, yeah (ooh ooh ooh) at the car wash”*
Why the hell would you want to inflict that kind of torture
upon yourself again? Well, sit right back and I’ll tell you a little story…
I was talking to my friend today; we’ll call her Anastacia
[that’s that bitches real name too, lmfao] and we were talking about the
NASDAQ. I’m fucking with you guys; neither of us knows shit about all that,
maybe she should come back to school with me. Anyhow, we were talking about
life and more specifically a job she was prospecting. She said that she still
didn’t know what she wanted to do with her life. It gave me pause but not for
too long because that ship sailed for me about the same time that my breast milk
dried up. I can get really depressed if I think about it too much. I’ve got a
nice little student loan debt and nothing to show for that shit but a record of
‘on-time’ payments courtesy of wage garnishments. If I knew then what I know
now; bullshit! I’d probably still be a know-it-all asshole bitching about how I’ll
never use fractions in the ‘real world’ and chopping up lines on my desk with
my ruler in Geometry. True story.
I was a complete fuck off in high school. The only thing that
I really applied myself at was illicit drug taking and concert attendance; both
of which I excelled at, I might add. I’ll never forget the time I dropped acid
and the poster of The Cure I had on my wall came to life. Robert Smith left the
poster and walked toward me; and it was right then and there that my
fascination ended. There’s nothing quite like watching his face melt while
tripping balls to strike fear in you every time you hear Lullaby. I remember being told attendance
and attention at school was important but I was not impressed. In hindsight, I
can say I wasn’t challenged. I was bored. I would give my right tit to go back
and be bored as fuck. My options today are limited. I’m not saying I don’t
enjoy what I do and my place of employment; I’m honestly blessed and I know
it. I also know that I am capable of much more. My earning potential [this is
where I don’t tell you how much I make] could be much higher and far cushier.
The threat of living off Top Ramen is real should I for some reason lose my
current job. If I lose my job, it will be because I’ve forced Tim’s head into a
toilet filled with his own urine or because I failed to effectively utilize my
inside voice – meaning I’ve said some heinous shit out loud instead of inside
my head, unknowingly of course. Of course…
Today’s students are much more disciplined. They are better
prepared or maybe they just have a better grasp on reality. Times are changing.
The job market is more competitive. 15 yr. old me was certain I could hack it
out there as the next Courtney Love. I also thought I could be a freelance
writer and photographer. Then I believed I’d be a lawyer. You know what you
need to be a lawyer? A mother fucking education! I kept looking in my Cracker
Jacks box for my degree but all I got was a joke, a temporary tattoo, and one
time a decoder ring. No degree. I never spent time thinking about what I wanted
to be when I got out of school, I just wanted to get out – alive. Spoiled
little gluten intolerant assholes today get to use me as an example of what not
to do. They see how shitty people like me turned out and when I step left, they
step right. In all fairness I am probably saving countless young women from
abusive and one-sided relationships, unhealthy coping skills, bad habits and
practices and financial ruin. Just watch what I did and still do and do the
exact opposite ladies! You’re welcome.
Other people may have had some sort of clue when they were in
high school about a life plan for themselves. I just wanted to not go to jail,
not die, be famous and be filthy rich. I don’t think I was asking too much. Oh,
right – I wanted to be prettier and smarter than everyone else too, but not a
stuck up asshole. Life plan? No, just some down to earth goals that should have
been totally attainable. But here I sit, with a busted up pair of headphones on
while listening to music, writing this on a computer that doesn’t belong to me,
checking my bank account, making sure that there is enough in there for the
Department of Education to take its cut of my paycheck for a degree that I don’t
have. So…can I go back to popping pimples and being ignored at Prom???
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