Just…. tired

exhausted

It has been a while since I’ve posted an “article”.  I don’t know the proper term for this stuff.

I’ve just found myself just going back into seclusion of sorts.  Crap is happening and what should be happening isn’t.  I’ve been working and working but it’s going nowhere.  I’m the oldest on my “team”.  I use that word very loosely.  I work with children who get away with practically anything.  I’m a Courtesy Clerk (Cart Pusher).  The duties isn’t cut and dry as it may seem.  I have to do the following:

–  Cart Pushing
–  Bagging
–  Store Sweeping
–  Restroom Cleaning
–  Carryouts
–  Price Checking
–  Replacing Items
–  Reshopping

I do a lot of minor stuff on top of that.  Meanwhile, the children don’t do the smallest fraction of that.  I asked the supervisor why I seem to be called to do these stuff.  The answer… because they don’t know how.  TRAIN THEM!  C’mon! What kills me is that all of the tasks doesn’t require major thought behind it.  It’s just a lot of work.  Nobody does it.  Because of my work ethic of…. WORKING, I am constantly called to do something.  Non-stop movement while the children and stand and stare off into space.

A girl told me to get off the other kids’ back.  Apparently they have a powwow about me getting onto them about helping out and teamwork.  I don’t think I should have to do the work of multiple people all alone.  The girl said that “they’re just trying to earn a paycheck”.  Seriously?  You’re not going to earn a check if you’re being a bum.  A 15-year old girl is afraid to get her hair wet and that’s fine.  She’s allowed to bum around and not do anything.  Has it been brought to the ears of management?  Yes.  Did it make a difference?  No.

I’m on the verge of going off in that place.  I hate working there.  If it wasn’t for the need of money, I’d leave.  I get so exhausted.  I thought, at first, that it was the lack of working (when I took a break for school) that made me so tired.  But I’ve been back there for 3 months (feels longer).  I’m feeling so sore.  Back always kill me, neck burns, hips hurt.  Nothing feels good.  It’s all because the pathetic children.  I’ve drastically dropped weight because of the work.  I’ve lost 50 pounds (327 lbs. to 277 lbs.) since the beginning of April.  I don’t know if that’s normal.

Aside with the bum work of my “peers”, I’ve had battles with the lovely, lovely college that is Wright State.

I tried to email an advisor about internships.  Since I started college (Jan. 2009), not once was an internship required.  I have never had the guidance about how to apply for one or what is required prior to it.  I asked about it and the advisor was replying (sporadically).  She asked a series of questions and I was thinking that I’ll finally get something done.  Boy was I wrong.  After all of the talk and questions, she turned around and said that I’ll have to wait because I’m not qualified.  She didn’t bother to research my transcript.  Seriously?  Shouldn’t that have been the first thing to check before anything else is done?

Later, I asked if my information could be updated.  There’s something called a DARS Report.  It’s a degree audit.  It shows what was completed and what needs to be done.  I heard back and found out that what I’ve been given, by her, is incorrect and that the curriculum is changed.  I’ve never been informed of the change, especially after she WENT OVER IT IN DETAIL!!! Jesus Christ.  For academic advisors, this is fundamental mistakes that should happen.

Now that I stand another setback, I’ve become overly ticked.  I’m sick of people telling me that things will happen in time.  I’ve been the same crap for a decade.  I cannot get a foot in the door.  It irritates the crap out of me that people far younger than me can skate through life while I sit and home watching TV.  I have no sense of accomplishment because I really don’t see that I’ve accomplished anything.  Sure, I graduated as a Junior in high school.  At this point, that’s not an accomplishment.  It was a matter of timing.  I’m almost 27.  I live with my parents, working at the bare minimum pay rate with the maximum effort and I have a sub-par education.

Oh, Mr. Frost.  We’re reaching out because of your blogs.  You’ve raised concerns about the University and we’re here to help.  HELP.  GOD D**N IT.  If this lousy university wants to help, actually do something.  Don’t be a spectator.

I’m tired of it all.

Taken the Road Less Traveled

The-Road-Less-Traveled
Today (May 24th) marks the nine year anniversary of graduating high school.  Since then, I lingered, only existing in this world.  Reading prior articles that I’ve posted, you’ve probably realized that I’m in college right now and that it looks bleak.  You’ve been accustomed to my pessimistic outlooks.  If there was any conclusion about the opinion of, well me, would it be safe to say that I’ve taken the road less traveled?  I mean seriously, you take certain paths in life.  You head into the workforce or you get educated and have hopes and aspirations that will inevitably leave you (or your Mommy and Daddy) in debt.  If something happens, whatever the case may be, you stick to it.  If you get pregnant or if you’re submerged in poverty, you may quit college and stick to the life of something less.  Typically, without coming back to it.  Conversely, if you’re fortunate to go to college (or even find your ideal vocation) without fail, you’ll stick to that and live life to your ideas and dreams.

For me, that never happened nor will it.  I graduated almost a decade ago.  I had thoughts about going into computers.  I took a few college level computer classes and got an A.  The problem with that was that I did not have the foggiest clue about what I scored so highly on.  The instructors stunk…. horribly.  After dabbling with a couple of classes, and failing on, I got on academic probation.  I took a couple of semesters off (as the rule entailed).  During this time, my new “passion” grew.  I came back to college and found a geology course.  I aced it.  I loved that class.

Since that college didn’t offer the major of Geology, I transferred.  After soul-crushing realization of me never getting anywhere with the stagnant progress of Wright State, I thought that I may have to change majors.

Throughout this whole time, a span of seven years flew by.  I never did go to college in 14 consecutive semesters.  I went off and on.  I did what most people don’t do.  Stick to work and college, especially at this long of a tenure.  Something normally has to give.

Since college is off for the Summer (for me), I’m taking the role of being a retail schmuck.  I work in an establishment that I see as an asylum controlled by inmates… but not the typical inmates.  It’s controlled by window-licking children.  I’m older than a majority of the supervisors and managers.  My co-workers might have hit puberty.  I’m assuming that they might have.  I work with 15 and 16 year-old’s.  They get paid more than I do.  At this freak show, raises tend to be handed out more on the hours you’re scheduled rather than performance.  I am now getting my raise (of a shiny nickel).  I outwork almost everyone in the front of the store yet get treated like the old weather gum you step on in the parking lot.

I am sticking with college for one reason.  I don’t want to be a lifer at my job.  It’s a crap job where the pay the minimum wage for the maximum effort.  I work extremely hard and I really don’t get anywhere.  I want to be someone who can potentially have a family without worrying about how governmental welfare will be cut and how we’ll be able to make it the next week without relying on pantries.

I have a sure idea on what I want to do.  I transferred majors from Geology to Urban Affairs.  Urban Affairs had a few branches.  I had the idea of either starting a nonprofit co-sponsored by a university hospital or maybe work for the city as a developer.  Since I have restrictions on the nonprofit idea, my last idea may be my only hope.  Doing so, I might be able to get out of the mentally and physically painful realm of poverty and actually be someone.  It’ll be a whole decade in the making.  By the time I graduate, I’ll be $57K in debt and four weeks shy of my 10-year high school “reunion”.

I hope.
I hope.

Emotionally Exhausted and Morally Bankrupt

Frank Burns
I am now at the point to where I see myself becoming more pessimistic at an unhealthy level.  The things going on right now has me wanting to pull the hair right out of my head.  Nature’s doing that for me.  My thinning hair and apparent grey in my beard may be the result of the overwhelming malarkey.  I said malarkey.  I am trying to keep this at an entertaining PG level.

I’ve said it multiple times since November (when I started this farce called blogging) that I have self-esteem issues from an array of incidents.  I have an apparent form of depression compounded with anxiety.  Although it’s not medically diagnosed, it is there and it’s evident as RuPaul and his “lifestyle”.  Maybe that isn’t the best comparison.  It’s 2:30am right now, so get off my back.  My depression and anxiety may be temporary if things smooth out.  I really don’t see that happening.

In the past, my anger issues grew exponentially when I lost my home in 2013.  It grew to a greater scale when I lived on campus at that “college” called Wright State University.  I lived with three guys who, all in all, was the polar opposite of myself.  They’re financially secure with the comfort of knowing that the only way they are (or were) going to college was through the wallets of their parents.  They can drive.  They’re socially excelling.  I was never like that.

I’m a 6’3″ or 6’4″ (depends on the slouch), 300 pound country boy, $47,000 in student loan debt, without a drivers license and primarily an introvert.  Knit pick at that.  For eighteen months, all of that and then some was picked at.  Anyone weaker would have snapped in a violent manner.  I didn’t.  I bottled it up.  Emotionally, it wore me out.  My self-esteem went right out of the window.  I remember being told “Sucks to be a Joe” or “Who cares, nobody knows who you are”.  I apologize for being that sorry sap for longs for being socially accepted.

Aside from that, the college itself is cracking the foundation of who and what I am.  I grew up poor.  I’m still poor.  My ultimate goal was to go to college and become someone.  The number one thing was to be someone who didn’t have to be in pain from years of brutal impacts to the body.  I wanted to do something where I used my mind and help people.  My college chipped away at that.  David Hopkins, former President of Wright State University, was the head of a university who neglected the budget to a point to where progress was almost non-existent.  I had signed up for classes that would be cancelled at the last minute leaving me with no room to find an adequate course.  I would have to take something I did not need to keep myself from owing the college money.  Because of this, I’m at a point to where I’ve used more financial aid than I should with nothing to show for it.

The Spring 2017 semester just ended.  How did I do?  I didn’t.  I got an incomplete for one mistake in my class.  The professor never taught an online course before, so my fate is (or was) lying in the hands of someone completely incompetent of his own tasks.  The university failed me again, and I really don’t think I will be able to graduate.  I spend the past eight years working hard physically and mentally for what?  Owing the government for the money I spent on a institution they shouldn’t have accredited?  I’m tired of it all.  I had goals.  I had the hope of the “American Dream”.  By-the-by, the American Dream is dead.  I had a goal of one of two things. Doing a non-profit by helping those with nervous disorders, or something to be ecologically aware while working for the city.  I cannot do either because the forces behind the oak desk at Wright State is shaping my destiny to be that of retail.

I don’t want that life.  I don’t want to be in customer service, being a lifer at a retail chain.  I want to be in control of what I see as my own destiny.  I don’t want to be ticked off 24/7, working ten times harder than my 15 year old co-working while we’re getting the same pay.  I want to live, not exist.