Tales From The Gas Pump

My current employment is working part time at a gas station/convenience store.

I see my share of ........um.......stupid people.

• there's a reason why it says NO SMOKING all over the pumps.  Gas = flammable, dumbass.  Put out your fucking cigarette for the two minutes it takes to fill your tank.  Your nicotine addiction will live.
  
  
• Pay in advance means pay in advance.  If you don't have a debit/credit card, you have to pay cash in advance before you fill your tank.  Why?  Gee, it couldn't be because people steal/scam gas from us.  Can't I give you a break?  Uh, no.  I don't get paid enough to.  Unless you're willing to meet me round back......?  :::raises eyebrow:::
  
  
• Even when you think no one is watching you, someone is.  Someone being me.  I dare you to walk out of that door with that Snickers and Red Bull under your jacket.  Try me.  I'm in a fighting mood today.  Bring it, jackass.
  
  
• No, you can't return that newspaper you just bought.  It's not my fault that the headline is something that upsets you.
  
  
• Yes, cops really do eat donuts on their breaks.  And hot dogs.  Just sayin'.
  
  
• If you're in the store to buy condoms, you don't have to buy 5 other things to try and "hide" it.  Be a man.  Just walk up to the fucking counter and say in your loudest I'm-about-to-get-laid voice "Give me some fucking Trojans."  You're not fooling anyone here.
  
  
• If the slushee machine has an out of order sign on it, it means.......no, wait for it........it's out of order.  No, I'm not just fooling you because I have a vendetta against you.  Seriously.
  
  
• If your pre-made, pre-wrapped, commercial sandwich of ham and cheese from god knows what company has mayo on it and you don't like mayo, it's not my fault.  No, I can't remake it for you.
  
  
• I don't set the prices for the cigarettes.  Dude, I know they're expensive.  I'm a smoker myself.  I get it.  but I don't set the prices.  No I can't change them.  Move along.......
  
  
• If you're 13 and you look like you're 20.....guess what....you're still going to get carded for cigs.  D'oh.
  
  
• If you're drunk and about to vomit/shit your pants, please don't use our restroom.  Dude.  I have to use that too, and clean up after you.  Just sayin'.

A Good Day

I actually had a good day today.  Shocking!  Don't know why, as I didn't do anything out of the norm.  Not complaining, though.  But the pervading sense of dread and depression and that the walls are closing in on me didn't seem to be as prevalent today.

Did a ton of cleaning round the place, which was good but irritating because most of the mess is my roommate's.  Not that I'm the best at keeping things pristine, but I try to clean up after myself more than he does.  But he's still at that stage of life where living like a pig just adds to the tough guy stoner image.  Beer cans and cigarette butts and bongs and trash everywhere.

I'm still struggling with the fact that I'm just a couple years shy of being 40, and no longer a young twenty-something that can get away with partying all night.  But, I'm no longer willing to have my place of residence looking and smelling like a pigsty.

I also had a sit down with him and told him that I don't want any more drugs in the place.  If he chooses to use elsewhere, that's his business, but no more here.  And that if he does, I won't hesitate to call the police.  He got pissed and said it's his place and if I don't like it I can move out.  I said alright then, I'll have to look for a new place, and left it at that.

A couple of hours later he wandered back in and asked me why I was being such a dick.  I said you know I'm trying to stay clean dude, and get my life back in order.  I said you may still be at a place where you can take it or leave it, but I can't, and having it shoved in my face every few days is like rubbing salt in an open wound.  I told him that I hoped he wasn't so far in as to go down the same path I did, but if he was I could help.  At that he got quiet, and I could see he was wanting to tell me something, but he chickened out and walked out of the room.  I'm not going to pester him, just wait and see.  He knows how I feel, and I also know he doesn't want me to move out.

I surprised myself by remaining calm throughout the exchange and I didn't let it get to me.  I've been scouting out potential new places for a week now and have a couple of potential leads, but haven't acted because I really don't want to have to move.....again.  I know this isn't the ideal place, living with someone who is actively using drugs and is in the lifestyle, but for some reason I feel compelled to stay here.  Maybe I'm supposed to help this kid, I dunno.

We knew each other through mutual friends (i.e. dealers) and when I got evicted from my house this summer I was put in touch with him and he graciously let me crash at his trailer, even though all he had available at the time was the couch in the living room.  I was still in relapse at that time and the situation seemed ideal, since he was using too.  In hindsight I hope I didn't encourage him in his usage by shooting up in front of him.  I get the feeling he views me as this cool, veteran druggie guy and thinks it's something to aspire to.  If only I could make him understand how uncool this path is, the lengths I've gone to in the past.....but I can't.  He'll have to learn it himself.

So anyway, back to my good day.....I bought some cheap Christmas lights and strung them up round my bedroom and have a few Christmas-y do-dads here and there.  At least here in my bedroom, it's a little cheerful.  I'm doing my utmost to stay positive and not dwell on woulda-shoulda-coulda.  There's no use in beating myself up over my failures of this past year.

Just trying to stay in the present and look forward.

You

I feel you here with me
whispering in my ear
haunting my dreams,
and my everyday thoughts.

What would it be like
if you were here now?
I ache for the future
we never had.

I can see your blue eyes
your blonde hair,
your brilliant smile.
I remember the taste of you.

Why am I still here
and you are not?
The fates sure got that one wrong.
Is it too late to change places?

Your breath whispering to me
giving me the courage to go on.....
do you know the battle I wage?
My haunting reality....without you.

I live with the loss of you everyday.
How can I go on, knowing the emptiness
that lies before me?
Yet your whisper leads me on....

and tells me I have to go forward.
Trudge through the emptiness,
trudge through the battle.
Victory awaits me on the other side.

I trust you.....so I go on.


Copyright Steven Clark 2010

Blogophilia 40.3 The Way We Were

Blogophilia

This link is to Marvin's new Facebook page.  I'd link the Myspace page too but we all know what a clusterfuck that would be.

(to anyone who has no idea who/what Marvin and Blogophilia are, Blogophilia is a writing group that originated on Myspace.  Each week a topic is given for you to incorporate any way you want into a fiction or non-fiction story, poem, song, you name it.  Bonus prompts are given to incorporate as well.  It's an awesome group of fun and talented people.....join us if you're interested!)

Topic: The Way We Were

(Hard, 2pts): complete the phrase "Advice is what we ask for...."

(Easy, 1pt): include the word 'insane'

A Good Me vs. Bad Me Installment

Good Me:    *hums while dusting*    

Bad Me:    *wakes up with a start*    huh?   uh, wuuuuuhhhh?

Good Me:    About time you woke up.  Come on, help me finish unpacking and cleaning!

Bad Me:    WTF?  What do you mean by 'unpacking and cleaning' huh?  *looks around*  where the hell are we, anyway?

Good Me:    *sighs*  You know perfectly well where we are.  We're in our new home.

Bad Me:    New home?  What. The Fuck.  Seriously mate, what's goin' on here?  *glares suspiciously*

Good Me:    You really do have short term memory loss, haven't you?  *whispers under breath*  must be all the drugs....

Bad Me:    I heard that!  *narrows eyes*  I haven't used anything in......um.....well....a long time!

Good Me:    *laughs hysterically*  a few days doesn't count as a long time, sorry to say.  ANYWAY, *rolls eyes*   this is our new home.  BlogSpot.  We also have rentals at WordPress, Myboomerplace, and Friendburst too, but we're making our home here for now.  

Bad Me:     WTF happened to Myspace?!?

Good Me:     Argh, don't ask.  Seriously, don't ask  *tears up*

Bad Me:    *looks astonished*  Blimey, I didn't know it had gotten that bad.  Do they need an intervention?

Good Me:    Who, Myspace?  We already tried.  It's a lost cause.  *breaks up and weeps*

Bad Me:    *looks uncomfortable*   Um....     *pats Good Me's shoulder*   Uh......there there.  Hush....um, fuck.

Good Me:    *blows nose on Bad Me's shirt*    Thanks mate.  I'll be OK.  It's just still so hard to accept.....I keep remembering the way we were, all of us bloggers there, in this fabulous community!  We sent so many emails, staged so many protests......advice is what we asked for from Myspace, how to survive these changes.....and we were told we bloggers didn't matter!  *starts sobbing again*  Yes!  We were told we didn't matter! Isn't that insane?  We were the only ones keeping Myspace afloat!  *weeps uncontrollably*  

Bad Me:     *looking even more uncomfortable*  Uh.......ok.  So what you're saying is, we have new digs?

Good Me:    *loudly sniffs*   YES.

Bad Me:    And are any of our friends here?

Good Me:   A few, yes.  Why?

Bad Me:    *whistling*   Oh, I dunno....new digs might be kinda fun yeah?  

Good Me:   What do you mean?

Bad Me:    *smirks*   Well.....new digs, new girls, new......distractions.....  *grins evilly*  So out with it, how's the scene, how's the action, where's the girls, where's the bar!?  Come on, where's the fucking bar!?

Good Me:   *long, heavy sigh*  Here we go again.....

alcohol fumes

Well, I did make it through the night on Friday without caving and joining in with my roommate and his friends as they partook of certain illegal substances.

I didn't get through the night totally unscathed though, as I got piss drunk.

So was the night a success, or a failure?

Is it better that I didn't snort half of Nebraska up my nose, or worse that I relied on a different mind altering substance to get through the night?

Does it make any difference?

It's a trap many addicts fall into, thinking if they quit using drugs, they can still drink.

Well, alcohol is a drug, a fact that most people minimize just like caffeine and nicotine.  The fact that it's legal and socially acceptable doesn't make it a safer choice.

But we junkies who are ready to get some semblance of a normal life back, but aren't ready to quite give up the ghost yet and live 100% sober, gravitate towards alcohol and continue escaping from reality, continue numbing ourselves out and not dealing with the problems that led to us becoming addicts in the first place.

I recognize it and acknowledge it, even as I sit here tonight and continue to drink.  I rationalize it in my mind that it's the lesser of two evils.  That with everything else going on in my life right now, I need it.  Deserve it, really.  I know it's fucked up, it's insane, yet I simultaneously rationalize it anyway.

The thought of not drinking....or using....*anything*....is absolutely terrifying to me and I don't understand how normal people do it.  Since, of course, I'm not normal.

I know that I need to find another place to live, and soon.  If I want to have any kind of chance at staying clean, I can't keep being around people who are using, especially right here in my place of residence.

Stuck

Still been playing with the layout and I think I have all the comment glitches fixed.  I really like this background a lot better too.  Hopefully everything will stay working.

On the homefront, I'm currently stuck in my bedroom and have three choices:  1) stay in here and play on the computer all night and ignore what is happening outside; 2) leave and try and find somewhere else to exist for the night, or 3)take part in the drug fest that my roommate and his friends are engaging in just outside my door.

Of course option #1 is the hardest, because it's kinda hard to ignore....especially when I want to engage in the drug fest.  #2 leaves me, at the moment, with sleeping in my car because I have no where else to go.  #3 would be compromising my already shaky recovery even further, though my brain is telling me "it's just one night, you can start over again tomorrow."

It's hard to stay clean when those around you aren't.

It's going to be awhile before I can find somewhere else to live as I can't afford anywhere else at the moment.

I'm wondering what's the point of it all, why even try?  Whenever I achieve any measure of success in recovery I always end up sabotaging it all and backsliding.  I tell myself I want recovery and to have a normal, happy life, but I must not want it that bad because I keep fucking it up.  What's it going to take?

Yeah, I know I'm whining.  Sorry.

My rage reverberates off the walls
from my silent glare;
if looks could kill, the place
would be ablaze with the
flames of my blackened soul.
I look in the mirror and the force
of my self-hatred cracks the surface;
through the wavering shards I see
the terrified boy within crying out
for anyone, everyone to hear.
I'm here, he says.  I matter.
Don't you understand?
I glare even harder and the last
remnants of glass fall to the floor
to be ground into dust by my boot.
You don't matter, I say.
You never have.

Tweaking

Tweaking the layout of my blog that is.....what did you think I was gonna say?

Besides, I prefer my illegal substances to be on the downer side, not the upper.  Unless they're combined.....but that's another blog.  Oi.

Anyway, let me know what you think.  It's kinda fun looking through all the layouts available for free online and fiddling with all the bells and whistles in the Blogger template designer.  I get to playing with it all and before I know it a few hours have been sucked from my existance.

It's kinda like that with drugs too, but at least playing on the computer is legal.  Heh.

I learned how to add a reply button to comments, if you want to be able to reply directly to each comment.  Thank you for the help, Kev!

The instructions are here and you only have to be mildly computer literate to follow:  spice up your blog

Note:  this will only work if you have your comments embedded directly beneath your posts.  It won't work with the pop up box or full page comment setting.

Oh, and for anyone who has tried to embed your comments directly underneath the blog but it wouldn't work, I figured that out, too (I'm looking at you, Kimmie).  Apparently the embed setting doesn't work if you try and do it after you've already installed a custom template from an outside source.  So here's what I had to do to fix mine:

Go to Design, then Edit html.

If you want to use the same template you have now, copy and paste all of the code in the box to Word or something so you still have it.  Done that?  Good.  Now.....delete all the code in the edit template box.  Trust me.  Then save template.

Now click on template designer and pick one of the bland generic formats Blogger offers.  Don't worry, it's just temporary.  Apply to blog, go back to blogger, and save. 

Now go to your Settings, then comments (underneath, not in the tab) to click embedded below post, and make sure post pages are enabled (check this under Archiving).  Save.

View your blog to make sure it worked.  Throw up a few test comments, just cuz it's fun and I said so.

Working?  All comments are showing underneath your post?  Good. 

NOW you can go back to Design and edit html and put your customized template back in, or go find a new one.  Save.

I know, I know, it's a lot of work.  But it'll be worth it in the end.

Just be sure you do all of these steps BEFORE you try doing the add-a-reply-button thingy above, if you're going to.  Trust me.

*edited to add:  well, it seems there's still technical glitches with the embed-below-blog comment thing, so ignore what I said above.  still working on it.

Happy (and legal) tweaking!

Oh, and have a great Thanksgiving.  Eat lots of pie and turkey and stuff, watch football, bicker with your family and watch Uncle Frank get schnockered.  Just don't let him fondle the turkey.