Fool at Fir

Am annoyed at Fir and all of it's workers (except Alex, she's fabulous) particularly this fucking Jake Bagel. I'm sick of this man, these men who work there, it's like I feel like a fool most of the time. I do not need them to go out of their way to make me feel stupid, the work is clearly done! I am carrying so much shame and nervousness, I balance a set of encyclapedias whilst tight-rope walking everyday. He's nobody special, and that wierd other designer talks to himself in his cubicle whilst playing the best of ACDC and has nerve carrying on about me. The nerve of some people.

And will be painting the wall again on Friday. B. is going to flip. I just can't seem to get a grip on anything. Information goes through me like a sieve, I'm too nervous. They talk about everyone else there and I know they talk about me. I've let it become a reality, meaning ok, whatever, fuck you and I'm just going to do what I have to. I try very hard, but sometimes I feel like I'm so slow an inefficient, and nothing is more embarrassing than having this exposed. Nothing is more discouraging than having them take my tasks from me because they doubt I can do it myself. I hate the thought of annoying them but they need not make it so obvious. I want to die of embarrassment.

Don't see the type I rasterized or the clipping I did wrong. Don't see the drops of paint I got on the carpet and don't notice that I broke the bottle of Dolce and Gabana last week. See me. See that I'm trying as hard as I can, that I want this more than any other intern you could have hired. Understand I'm trying the best I can and I'm sorry if this isn't enough, I see it, too. See that my smile is painted on, I'm fighting a war behind it all.

And losing is not an option.

" Live through this with me, and I swear that I would die for you."

- Courtney Love / Hole

Crawling Up a Hill

Over it and carrying on. Ghetto girls at work in my hair and sewing in their own. Finding fauolt with everything. On edge. Oh yes.

Oh Here We Go Again

On the test for professionalisim and an entire change of priorities. Have become disgusted beyond reason with romantic life that is going nowhere and have surrounded myself with the cruel women of beauty, which, if those of u who read don't know, is an ugly, ugly buisness.

Finally bid goodbye to Chrissy and has been a month since we last spoke. I'm trying to juggle my job, school, and my internship and impressing a rather fierce mentor these days and thus, have no time for his antics or any of those with a man I don;t whole heartedly respect. Which rules out the majority of them.

Feeling I'm stumbling quite terribly in the dance to impress Firmenich. I'm not a good listener and this is getting in the way. The conversations I'm continually having are going too far my way. The need to exercise being quiet is apparent this semester.

I want to become someone with purpose. This is my new passion. I've never been more content or more stressed, honestly.