A Middle Class Hero Is Nothing To Be

AKA: The Perks Of Being A Partial Alcoholic

Well.

I was told to write when feeling like rambling. And here I am. Drunk once again. And my other diary community not working…a Josh Ritter song ringing through my diminutive dwelling. All the help in the world

And all it not strong enough to defeat the beast of my brain.

But I will write regardless. Hold on… some screaming outside my place. Hero mode… Nevermind. Took too long to find my glasses to do any good. I am getting old. I think I won’t divide this into paragraphs. I know, as a reader, that makes it more annoying to read, and I don’t blame you in any way for cutting out here, but this all belongs together in my head.

Okay. For your sake I can start here. I had a job interview today. Because I am unemployed. In case anyone didn’t know. Pretty hard to keep anything from anyone nowadays. The interview was bad, for anyone who cares. I can’t sell myself. No matter how confident I feel ahead of time, the questions they ask make me realize: they should hire me, I am probably in the bottom 40% of their candidates even with my college degree. I don’t tell them this at any point. I only realize it after the interview is done and I assess the past 30 minutes. Why do I like Data Entry, you dumb fucks? Do you seriously think there is an honest answer to that question that sounds good??? No one enjoys data entry. They do it for the fucking paycheck. And anyone you interview that says differently is a lying fuck. But I am not. So my answer was probably unsatisfactory.

Ooh. Look at that. Couldn’t help but create a new paragraph.

Beforehand I thought I was overqualified. I realized during the interview, my feeble brain forgot all the things that made me overqualified. I felt like a child. My college degree meant jack shit in front of these two people who were probable suppose to be mentally inferior to me… only they weren’t. They were towers above me. I can’t remember anything I knew 6 years ago. My brain no longer works. I might as well be a mentally disabled person… but I’d never get any government compensation for my brain’s malfunction. Everyone wants to hope and believe. But they can’t see. The fight is lost. And sadly, only time will tell for them. And I wait for the rest of the world to catch up to me. Because clearly I am so smart I can see ahead of everyone else… but not smart enough to survive and succeed in the world.

Time for me to move to working class. Middle class don’t suit me. Sorry, kids that will never exist (God willing).

Postscript: A song came on. And weird drunk emotion hit me. Nevermind the song. I know I have something to offer. I just don’t know how to give it.

Post-Postscript: I just want to love again. That’s all. I am pretty sure that would solve most of my problems. Not all… just most.