Roommate's girlfriend is over here EVERY. SINGLE. FUCKING. NIGHT. Doesn't she have a place of her own?
I went into this apartment thinking "hey, finally moving out of my parents' place". Because my roommates worked theater hours and I was an 8-5 kinda person, I had plenty of personal space because they wouldn't show up until at least four or five hours after their shifts ended.
I'm not sure what changed, but one of them is here most of the time now. He's the one I mentioned in the previous post, that faps in full view of me and only rushes off to the bathroom WHERE HE SHOULD HAVE FUCKING BEEN IN THE FIRST FUCKING PLACE when he's about to come. Ugh.
Now, with about a month to go on the lease, I'm unemployed and have no plan for where the fuck I'm going to be living in a month. Job fairs are useless because everyone is looking for people with ridiculous levels of qualifications and says "oh just apply online". Nobody wants poor little entry-level to mid-level me with no token piece of paper saying I drove myself into debt for four years at a university. Also, what is the point of having to go to all the effort of dressing in uncomfortable clothing and drive out in the middle of an extremely warm day to go to a job fair where there's basically no open positions I can fill just to find out I can't even apply for anything there because it's all online. Had I known that I would have just looked at the list of employers that would be there and gone to their websites, applied from the comfort of my own home, and saved myself all the effort, profuse sweating in uncomfortable non-breathing semi-dress clothing, and time of having to drive to the damn job fair.
You know, places that are hiring really don't exert a lot of effort making sure people know they're hiring, either. I want to be able to drive down the street and see a sign that says "NOW HIRING". Inside there should be a sign saying "inquire about employment here" and an arrow pointing the damn direction to whomever I need to talk to. Having to walk into a place of business that's expecting me to, you know, spend money there, and instead say "actually how about a job application" is incredibly awkward, especially for someone like me, i.e. an introvert with social anxiety.
I can't even get a job doing what I like because of all these extra random requirements like "extensive experience in <insert random javascript framework here>", "expert in responsive design because mobile is the way of the future", or "expert in SEO techniques". Why does a backend web developer need to know a damn thing about SEO? It's all frontend. The only backend stuff is ridiculously easy, just a couple mod_rewrite rules so the babbies on the internet can have URLs with words in them instead of the "ugly" ?articleid=8147 at the end of the URL.
Regardless, I'm sitting here blasting music into my ears to completely drown out my roommates and the aforementioned girlfriend, all of whom are completely ignoring my presence. I should have packed up and left a couple months ago when this shit started. I thought when we moved in that I'd get to play computer/console games with them, that we might do some things together (not gay things, but rather "hey, wanna go grab some food at Cook Out or something?"), or that we might even have coordinated meals that we'd eat maybe once a week and actually put the growing number of cooking ingredients around the kitchen to some use. Guess how much of any of those things we've done? Zero. Yeah, that's right, zero. For the most part, they spend the entire day out doing who the fuck cares what and just come back here to sleep. I'm left banging on the wall to make people shut the fuck up because they're being loud and waking me up at 10 AM, four hours after I went to sleep. Go ahead, blame me for being nocturnal. It's okay, I'm used to it. Being nocturnal is "something I decided", and I'm not allowed to complain about being woken up in the middle of the day. Let me wake you up in the middle of the night sometime, we'll see how much you fucking like it, bitch.
That's another thing I don't get. These people. They buy all this food that they never use. Just the other day I went through the cupboard pulling out expired can of food after expired can of food. Also pulled out a few cans that were rusting. Really? REALLY? Come the fuck on, don't waste food. I seem to be the only one that only buys what he's going to use. Our freezer is so packed full of stuff that I can't even fit a handle of rum in there anymore. Between the two bags of frosted over chicken breasts, all the SteamFresh stuff that we can't cook because we have no microwave, and the other random things (I think there's a bag of potstickers in there somewhere), there's barely enough room for me to stick a couple skillet meals in there anymore. All of this stuff is unopened. ALL OF IT.
I need my own place, by myself, badly. The only problem being my lack of employment and various personality and mental conditions that make gaining employment a very difficult and awkward process. If I go back to my parents' place, they'll drain my account of the remaining ~$3K charging me rent without any sort of sympathy or actual assistance in finding a job. Their idea of assisting me is saying "go get a job". That's like telling someone who isn't good at a game that they suck at it. It doesn't help.
I want to get out of here, temporarily, for the next several hours. My parents' place is out because they'll be asleep. I think I'll start stashing some of the stuff I never took out of boxes in the first place in my old empty bedroom in their house over the course of the next week or so, just to make the "oh hey I'm homeless and unemployed can I sleep on my old bedroom floor" thing go a little more quickly.
The only problems with getting out of here are that I have no idea where to go or what to do. Doing anything in our corporate republic costs money. Also, it means I'd have to subject myself to the shenanigans of my roommates and the aforementioned girlfriend, however briefly. Furthermore, in this rundown city that relies on its history for any kind of attraction whatsoever, there's very little to do after 8 PM, even if I was in the mood to spend money.
Well, according to my headset's control panel, I have about an hour of battery left. So I need to decide what to do within the next hour. Wish me luck.
Monday, June 9, 2014
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