Okay, I think I have a new plan.

If I can save $150 out of each paycheck, I should have $900 by the end of September. The certified nursing program is only $850. I could start 10/29 and by done by the middle of December.

It's not perfect. It's not what I want to do forever. But at least I'd be making more money til I figure out my next move. Sean and I could move in together. We could finally get serious about getting married.

I'm only worried I'm going to have a hard time learning. Thanks to my stupid LD I have a hard time retaining shit. Oh well. Guess I'll figure it out.

"Figuring it out" has been my life up to this point, anyways.

When I was a preteen, and even in my early teen years I dreamt about being an actress. About being famous. And sometimes? I still do. Only now I want to be in a band. Problem is, no one I know plays anything, and well, I suck at singing and guitar playing. Not that that stops some people *coughbritneycough* Anyway, I've decided I'd be a sucky celebrity. I trust all the wrong people. I don't know when to keep my mouth shut. All the celebrities I see on twitter only follow their friends. I'd be following EVERYONE who followed me and berating myself if I couldn't keep up with everyone. I'd still be shopping at walmart...

Anyway, I actually had a good day today. Went to Salvation Army and scored awesome clothes. Speaking of which I need to pull them out of the dryer.

Tomorrow's going to be difficult. One day closer to Monday. I wish I wasn't so obsessed with time.

"Monday always feels like a funeral" - Screeching Weasel

I have to ask, what's the difference between "blah" and "bleh" in the mood box? Don't they mean the same thing?

Meh. I digress.

So, brand new diary. Brand new place for me to bitch, whine, moan, and just be the general pain in the depressed ass I am for my eyes only.

I could waste my time writing an intro about myself, but lets face it, I am probably the only one who's gonna read this. If someone reads it and wants to know about me, go ahead and ask.

Right now, I hate work. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I don't even have it in me to fake it anymore. How have I been doing this for almost four years?

The skinny is, my bitch of a boss cut my hours. Mine. Me and mine only. And the fact that it's only me just makes it hurt worst. I feel I'm a pretty damn good employee. I work my ass off. I understand the economy's bad, but guess what? I have bills, too. Hospital bills thanks to the stress you put me under day in and day out.

Needless to say, I've been job hunting pretty hardcore. I'm actually dreaming of the day I can walk in and give my two weeks notice.

I'm hoping having this and being able to vent some of my feelings will help me. I've found it's gotten harder and harder for me to talk about my issues.

Next Wednesday I'm going to see Hey Monday. And it will rock. Oh yes, it will rock.