Gut flop sickness.

Yesterday was beautiful. Sun, a few puffy fluffy clouds. I sat. And drooled stupidly into my book. I was insulating myself from the scary world. This is a stupid fucking pattern that I fall into when I am depressed or unmotivated. I need to find a second job. I sent an email to one of the dream establishments in my neighborhood. I should've followed up with a personal visit yesterday. But I didn't. I sat like a fat idiotic toad and read. It was a very good book.

Today I sent off two resumés via e-mail for postings I found on craigslist. Yay. I really need to swallow my fear and bullshit and actually talk to people. I am not good at that. Once I have the job, I am excellent with customer service, but whoring myself for the position is scary. I know it's not really whoring because seeing a face and having a chat makes all the difference. It's just that I have a problem with blushing and then sweating and then feeling like a complete idiot. Fuck.

What's the secret? Just do it? Fuckin' Nike.

So today I will go to work and be professional and pretend that this job that I love is enough, pays enough, is sufficient for living.

On another note: "Sail On" by the Commodores is a very good song.