Sorry for my truancy from blogger of late, but the good news is that I've been away long enough for there to be actual news. Just not very much news. Not yet, anyway.
I got myself a suit and some nice shoes over the week-end, and I'm going to a job fair tomorrow, hopefully to find some places which may be looking for a man with my skill set.
I haven't had a real grown-up job in like, well, ever, so at this point the notion of getting one doesn't even seem real. I've grown so used to being asked what I'm doing with my life, and just shrugging my shoulders. And now every time either of my parents poke their head into my room I'm dreading the third degree - to the point where I simply don't want to talk to them at all. At this point I wonder if when I finally do find decent employment if that feeling will go away.
And on the subject of stream of consciousness, let me tell you another story, about my Auntie Flo. She has, without fail, done something to insult, annoy or horrify me every single time she has ever profaned me with her presence. It has reached the point where ever hearing her name, and learning that she's thinking of coming to visit, that I become distraught. She enters a room, and suddenly I feel like a trapped animal and I want to gnaw my own arm off to escape, rather than stick around to find out what new insane thing she's going to do or say.
My Auntie flow has been known to yell at friends of mine she's never met before, before even saying hello - yelling at them over some insane house rule she's got into her head. The rules of MY house, and not hers. She does this one all the time. She once accused my friends of throwing her coat on the floor, after she precariously balanced it on a window sill. Even a sub-normal brain should theoretically be able to figure out that when you place things haphazardly like that, sometimes they fall.
Oh, and speaking of stream of consciousness, and this is sort of embarrassing, really, but the other day, my sister asked me when I chose "Auntie Flo" to describe her, of all things. I said I just like the ring it had to it. It's a name I took from a play called "The Well Being." And so my sister says that women use the term "auntie flo" as a euphemism for their menstrual period.
See, I didn't know that, but it occurs to me that it's actually really obvious. And now that I know this, it makes the name that much more brilliant. The runner up name for her, "Heinous Bitch" while colorful and descriptive, it just doesn't have that subtle finesse. She really does behave as though she's constantly on her rag, though she is in fact, post-menopausal. And of course, whenever my Auntie Flo comes to town, it really does feel like I’m having my own menstrual period.
And speaking of Auntie Flo, the last e-mail she sent round was advising the rest of my family that I should seek therapy. There's clearly something wrong with me - there must be, because I don't have a job, right? I must be.
Next time she visits and asks me what I'm planning for the near future, I'm tempted to say:
"Oh, well, you remember that e-mail you sent round to everyone? Well, we all took it to heart, and I'm checking into a long-term adult care facility. They'll take good care of me there. Also, I've advised Grandma Depressia to forward my entire inheritance to you."
"Yeah, of course. I mean, lord knows you need it more than I do, what with your extravagant spending habits and all. Take my sister's, too. She got a scholarship anyway, so she doesn't need it. That way you can have lots of money to piss away long before you retire. Well, assuming you don't siphon off the rest of her money first, you selfish conniving heinous bitch."