Bleeding the wounds

I’d put a disclaimer that there’s no real point to this post. But, really, is there ever one?

I need to delete some e-mails from past jobs. I don’t know why I hang on to some of them. Mostly to light my fire, I guess, although they sometimes get inside my head and make me question myself.

I mean, really, can I be a screw-up at everything I touch? And whose rules are they playing by, anyway? Who ordained them as the proprietors of the right way of going about things?

It’s time for a career switch. It really is. I might just be the best widget-maker in the world (I’d be willing to go up against the “best” any day of the week). But if nobody cares to value it as a skill worth paying for, how do I parlay that into a rent payment?

And why would anyone make me feel “bad” about being good at something that they don’t know HOW to value?

I really don’t know what to do next. But I can be pretty sure that I don’t want to run into the ghosts of assclowns past for the rest of my life. And if that means changing fields, so be it. Because my talents are translatable across the universe. And I’ve been letting my field beat me up over being good at what I do for far, FAR too long.

One Lonely Response to Bleeding the wounds

  1. chris :

    America’s hostess. It’s so you.