It's only been ten days since I've last written in here...

I don't feel myself. Too busy. Too on the cusp of life changes. But my life doesn't feel like me. I guess it should. That would probably be healthier.

All in the past month I got a job, got a checking account, signed a year lease to a one bedroom apartment and had sex.

So now I work at Starbucks 40 hours a week and I live on my own.
Well, I'm moving in my furniture today.

That's so weird. I had this dream that my mom said something to... one of my sisters. It might have been Stephanie. But it also might have been Amelia. More likely Stephanie. I can't remember the exact words or meaning. It was like, I would say things and she would have this look on her face, like she was bored or she didn't like it or me or something. And my mom thought it was....? I'm not sure. But she challenged her on it.

I'm so tired of dreaming. I'm so damn sick and tired of dreaming about work. And now apartments. That's all I dream about. I don't even feel like I'm dreaming about people anymore, just me and places. I did dream, last night, that Amelia wanted the couch, here in the house, that I was going to take to my apartment. So we were trying to work it out. But in the dream it folded out into a bed and ours doesn't do that.

I dreamt some shit about a horror movie with Scooby-Doo. And the images it put into my head were terrible. I didn't want them there. And I told the director that he could not use Scooby-Doo again. Cause I guess he was my dog, that's why I was on the set. The director didn't like that, but I can't remember what happened. Just that it didn't get any better.

Please stop. I have to think about these things when I'm awake. It's too much for me to think about them when I'm asleep as well. On my first day off after working at Quiznos, I had like five dreams about working there. I seriously could not stop. I woke up the first time and I was like, oh, I dreamt about Quiznos. And I just kept doing that, waking up and realizing I'd had another dream. I hated it. I didn't like working there and I couldn't stand that when I wasn't working there, I was still working there in my dreams. All of them were different, with different settings and different shit going on. But it all meant the same to me.

What life have I gotten myself into? I miss my life just two months ago. They weren't selling the house, I hadn't had sex in two years, I was writing my book and relaxing all day, not working. I didn't have money to spend, but I didn't have obligations to spend it, I could do what I wanted when I wanted - go anywhere at any time, for any amount of time. Hang out with friends whenever I wanted. I wasn't using my alarm clock.

Even college was a lot different than this. A lot better. I mean, I was bored. But I was intellectually stimulated. I mean, I felt that I was bored intellectually, but I was using my brain in any case. Do you know what I mean? Intelligence is not in any way shape or form used while I'm making Frappachinos. Memory maybe and a little common sense.

I miss having my intellect stimulated. I miss thinking. I miss understanding. What is there to understand about Starbucks? I miss having those 40 hours for myself, instead of for Starbucks. I get home from Starbucks and I'm so tired, all I can do is sleep and then wake up again and go to Starbucks. Even on my day off, like today, I couldn't stay up all night because I was just too exhausted.

In college, I felt that what I was being taught was not up to par with my standards of wisdom. It was always lacking. But I was always happy to try to fill in the missing pieces, to add my own interpretations and perceptions and wisdom to the puzzle.

There is no puzzle right now. It's not even relevant. And partly I feel guilty. Because I had so much time to myself the past two years, and I didn't use it as much as I should have. I didn't really WORK on my book. I only did it when it suited me. I never pushed myself to make it happen. And I told myself that part of it was because it was a self-discovery, a discovery about philosophy and psychology as well. And it hadn't been fully discovered, (or ever will be, incidentally). What I mean is, I have to take it a step at a time. And I don't think that two years ago, I was ready to know what I know now.

Maybe I was, though. Not two years ago, but definitely this summer. I also told myself that I needed to work on my people issues before I finished my book. And now that I've worked on register, and had coworkers and managers and a landlord, I have worked with people. But I'm sick of it. I'm sick of seeing their faces. So blank and empty.

They're not psychological to me. I mean, I can't feel it or see it. I see faces. I want to understand people, not see their faces. I want to understand me, not see their faces. When I'm alone, I'm constantly picturing myself in an imaginative mirror. But instead of seeing my face, I see my presentation of myself. I see how my actions and expressions reflect my psychology and I trace back those lines to my subconscious - to areas I wouldn't even notice or consider otherwise.

But here's the thing, complaining isn't productive. During those 40 hours of free time I usually have, I fully believe that life is not simply how it's meant to be, but that it simply is how it is. Meaning, it's not always perfect, or even right. But it does make sense. It's not an accident or a random occurrence.

So I can't accept that this is right for me. But I can accept that this is happening because of a reason. That it wouldn't happen if it didn't fit into me. Not the best of me, but the worst of me. Because we always get what we deserve. Not just karmically, but we get what we're subconsciously asking for.

Consciously, I can't imagine asking for this. But subconsciously, I know that I can't just quit and move to VA with my parents. I could do that, I could go back to my freedom and lack of responsibilities. But I asked for this. I haven't yet discovered why, but I did ask for it.

I was even directly told by The Masters to move to VA. And I said no. Even consciously I said no. I said no, knowing that I would have to go back to Starbucks for eight hours the next day.

When I pictured my life, I pictured more freedom to be me. I mean, an eight hour job is completely normal. But that also happens in the first eight hours of the day. Whereas mine happens right there in the day time. Not the morning, not the night. But the day time. I don't see Isis at all, unless I say hi to her for five minutes at 9 AM.

I get back and I could enjoy the night, I usually do, but as I said, I'm so tired, I have to sleep. I must have gone to sleep at 2 last night, I was stretching it as much as I could. I got seven hours of sleep and my eyes still hurt. I'm still tired. There's no way that I can enjoy the morning. Which is my problem.

I can't ask them to put me on an earlier shift. I could go in to work at 5AM and get out of there at 1. And then I have the rest of the day for myself. But how can I do that to myself? How can I tell myself to go to bed at 9 so that I can wake up at 4AM? I mean, wow, that's torture in all senses of the word. Okay, maybe not all. But it's torture nevertheless.

And that's the thing, I'm really just screwing myself. And I feel guilty because the life that I pictured, with no responsibilities, I had. And I didn't do much. I didn't seize the day and use the time I had to finish my book. I just jacked off and let it fly by, thinking I'd always have it. I didn't think that my job would so consume me.

But maybe it's consuming me for a reason as well. I mean, I won't ask for an earlier shift. And I'm dead tired when I get home. Though that's not strange, because I was like that after school as well. But only on Tuesdays was it bad. I mean, I'd want to go to sleep at 10PM every night, regardless. But on Tuesdays I was gone for nine hours. The other days I had lots of time.

But I mean, how tired you are is also psychological. It's not just your body's persuasions. Why would my body ask for ten hours of sleep? Physically my body doesn't even ache from working anymore, now that I'm out of Quiznos. Because psychologically, I didn't want to work at Quiznos, so my feet hurt in an expression of that.

I enjoy working at Starbucks. I enjoy spending time there. But not 40 hours a week. Ten hours a week might be good. But I can't pay my $750 rent on 10 hours a week. I only have a little bit left over after 40 hours.

...

Even now, what little time I have, when I'm not exhausted, I spend watching TV. I should stop that. I should return all my books and movies. So that I have no choice but to write and think when I get home.

And I also want to settle into it. Settle into my new apartment, my new responsibilities. I'm on the cusp right now and it's difficult to make something of a cusp. I didn't expect to move out for a couple of months, really.

My parents have set a date for Oct 15, Isis's birthday, incidentally.. with the people who are moving in here. And they keep going to VA to look at a house they want to buy down there. But I looked at apartments in August.. for Oct. That was stupid of me. Because obviously, people who are ready to rent, are putting their apartments up to get them rented by Sept 1. And that's what my landlord told me, that she had to get it rented by Sept 1st. I was hoping to save up a couple months of money first. My mom helped me out a lot. And when I say a lot, I mean $1200. It's like, I have the money, but I don't because they hold my pay for a week, and my "month" of work doesn't begin on the first. If it did, I wouldn't get the pay until the 14th, anyway.

So I began on like the 9th of August. So my "month" of working will probably end on the 11th of Sept. So if my rent is due at the first of the month, and I don't get it all until two weeks into the month, then I need to stay ahead. Which, would have happened if I had had an extra month of working. Then I would have had like $1700 saved up. And taking out $750 (or whatever it would have been, since it probably would have been another apartment, and probably cheaper, because I made the mistake of falling in love with the apartment and refusing to look elsewhere, and just sucking up the price) out of that, and earning another $900 in Oct, would have left me set for how things were going. See what I'm saying? I would have always had more.

Security would have put me behind, of course. But I would have asked my mom to help me with that.

So one might be curious to know why I purposely (at least purposely subconsciously) put myself in this situation. Why. Why did I make things harder for myself. I thought my life was going to be easy.

And it's not hard so far, just annoying. But that's because I have my mom. If I didn't, um, I'd be screwed. I simply couldn't have said yes to that apartment if not for my mom. I wouldn't have any furniture if not for my mom's generosity. She's giving me so much.

And I'm so willing to take it. Perhaps Amelia doesn't think she deserves to take it.

Wait a minute, I thought I was the one who thought I didn't deserve these things????

I guess when it comes to material objects, I do think I deserve them. I'm used to being rich (in past lives) and I can feel myself wanting to live that way again. Although, I can also imagine living poor in past lives as well, because it's like I'm used to living rich but I have a certain detachment to material things and money, like I don't want to get involved - oh wait, that probably means I was rich too.

I think the income earners are very hungry for money, but the people who live off of them, are not. Because they've always had it, and they don't worry about it. They just flaunt it. People who don't have money, always worry about it, so they're obsessed with it. So I probably wasn't the income earner in a past life, I was probably the wife or the daughter or the son or someone who could just enjoy the money...

And even so, people who don't have money, want it, and want all the things that they're missing out on. Generally speaking. People who are rich, are also obsessed with material things, but perhaps, in another life, I realized that they didn't mean very much to me. Or maybe just in this life, I realized from living with my mom, that they didn't mean much to me.

I personally think I have a lot of classy stuff, though. Not classy in comparison to someone who is rich. But I mean, I have enough of what I value in material things. And I'm not greedy for more. I think that's what I lack.

I lack ambition to get things as well. Like, I'll easily accept whatever my mom gives me for free or whatever I can get cheap at a yard sale. But hmm.. I don't know. I probably don't want to spend money from being with my mom. It's hard to say, why exactly I'm detached from business transactions.

... I have to start moving in my furniture...