In below freezing conditions, I hauled an old 50 gallon aquarium out onto my front stoop and started to apply a thick coat of paint stripper to the outside of the glass. The dog stayed in my periphery, and when she wandered off a little too far, I gave a whistle.
I eavesdropped on the neighbors talking about the Carolina Panthers, and I couldn’t have cared less. At least it wasn’t another drug transaction. The hub for that burned to the ground a few weeks ago. There’s no admitting it to my coworkers, but I’m fucking glad that hipster shit hole now sits vacant and condemned.
I took a break, because I couldn’t feel my toes, got myself off a few times and went back to work scraping paint.
Last year was probably one of the hardest years for me.
I felt like I made one of the biggest career mistakes ever, because I absolutely hated my new boss. I still fucking hate her, but she’s gone now…and I’m the boss. I make a significant amount more than I did, or still would, if I hadn’t made the change, and I was already doing the job before the bitch left anyway, so…not much of a change. I can deal with being middle management. It enabled me to finally quit my safety net job, which gives me much relished time to scrape paint off of fish tanks.
I’m not going to complain about how shitty a lot of mundane things are, because I finally don’t have to work two jobs that I hated with every fiber of my being…and I like having a dog.
Don’t fuck me over, 2016.