Scared

I told myself that I wasn�t going to write anything here until I was in a better mood. Until I could write something witty or scathing or just something besides how much I hate my life right now. But 6 days since my last entry I�m still feeling lost and alone and scared. I have to find another job. I never knew how much a job could control my life but it has. I�m afraid to get too much into since a person has been fired from my company for having a blog. Well that�s not the only reason but they are being so vague about it that I wish I had made up the place that I lived. I guess it doesn�t really matter since she made up a place but posted pictures of herself in uniform. Our uniforms are so ugly I�m not really sure why she did it. But hey this is about me. There used to be a time when I could work a little. A little means twice a week. I know to a lot of people who have to work 5 days or more a week it sounds like nothing but figure that my twice a week was going to the west coast and back twice a week. All of our work hours are calculated by flight hours so it used to be that working 80 hours a month was kind of a lot. Again think of the last time you flew cross country and imagine if when you get off the plane you just turn right around and go back. Oh there�s no sleeping.

Even though these types of flights were hard on me and my body I was happy because I was getting my hours in and it took less time. It even got to a point that it didn�t bother me as much. Of course my company decided that they had a better idea. Again it�s too hard and possible too dangerous to explain but it seems like you either fly every day or 4. There�s no real rhyme or reason for it. A lot of people are doing the fly every day thing. I could do that but if I did I would have to work every weekend and holiday and I just can�t do that so I�m stuck with the flying four days which is what I�ve done in November. Even though I hate my job with such a huge passion, I like to eat and buy nice things and not beg JAB for money all the time. I�m so frustrated. I feel like this happened for a reason. It happened so I could make myself go out and find another job. I�m looking but again I don�t have a lot of marketable skills. I�ve reworked my resume. I�ve fibbed a little and hopefully something will hit. The strange thing is that I�m so scared. What if all I can really do is serve cokes to people? What if my company has stolen every bit of creativity and drive out of me? I�ve never had the greatest self esteem. I�ve never been like a lot of other Gay men who �know� they are hot. I�ve always considered myself below average but I dressed well so many it would compensate. Now since I�m broke that�s falling apart. The one thing I used to always have was that I thought I was smart. I thought I was smarter than most of the people I work with. I read all the time. I�ve been published in a few small unknown publications but in the end I�m still just a flight attendant and that makes me feel like I�ve completely thrown away my life. I so down that I�m afraid to go to a temp agency for fear that they�ll laugh at me and tell me that they can only place me at the counter of McDonalds.

My mother told me today that she�s sure that I will be hired in a management position at my company. I didn�t have the heart to tell her that she�s crazy. There aren�t even management positions out there. I know she means well.

I�m wondering what the differences are between clinical depression and depression because your life sucks. I have a lot of the symptoms of clinical depression but I wonder would they go away if I got the perfect job? I should really put things into perspective. A friend of JAB�s, well really it�s a friend of a friend of his died today of cancer. He was 34 years old. He was diagnosed in July and he�s dead now. Right before Thanksgiving. I met him once for about 30 seconds. He seemed nice. He was laid off from his job and started detailing cars. He then started working for a motivational speaker. I�m ashamed to say that when he was first diagnosed I asked JAB if it would be wrong of me to email the motivational speaker my resume. I never did, not because it was morally wrong but more because I was afraid that she�d laugh at my qualifications.

God how much lower can I sink? I probably shouldn�t ask that question.

I actually could write more but this lap top is doing strange things. That�s all I need. I�m broke.

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