Overflowing with Anger

 
I had been unemployed for quite a while: more than 2 years.  Probably because my employment record is so shitty, no one has wanted to hire me.  I went to a place called RochesterWorks!  I asked them to help me find a job.  I was interviewed by an obese woman.  She asked me why I had been out of work so long.  Depression and OCD, I said.  She referred me to ACCES-VR, which helps people with disabilities get jobs.  It's been a long process, but I've been working the last few days as a janitor.  My shifts last from 1.5-2.5 hours per day.  It's temporary; it will be over in a week.  I'm filling in for a guy with a prosthetic leg who's on vacation in Florida.  I clean a Barnes & Noble.  I sweep, mop, vacuum, take out the trash, and clean the bathrooms.  I've cleaned shitty toilets.  Today, I found what I assume was a used maxi pad.  It seemed too big to be a mini pad.  It had quite a bit of dried blood on it. 
The problem is that the guy who got me this gig told me that it paid $8 an hour.  I said okay anyway.  But then I thought to look up the current minimum wage in the state of New York; it's $8.75 an hour.  I haven't been able to ask him about that yet, because it's the weekend.  I certainly will ask him, or someone else, about it tomorrow.  My anger has been building over this issue.  People who clean other people's shit out of toilets deserve to earn at least the minimum wage.  
I'm also angry at my neighbor.  Shortly after he and his fat, ugly wife first moved in, he played some loud music.  I tried to nip it in the bud.  I went over there and rang the doorbell.  I asked him to turn it down.  He apologized and turned it down.  It stayed down for a while: weeks or months.  Then it got louder again.  He also sings quite loudly.  He sings at the top of his lungs in his bathroom, which goes right through the wall.  I've yelled at him, through the wall, to shut up, but it never worked.  He also was singing in the hallways.  He'd come into the building singing loudly.  He'd continue until he got to his apartment.  Then he'd come out of his apt. singing loudly.  One time, I opened my door abruptly, and he looked at me.  "What's up?" I said with a mean look on my face.  He just shut up and skedaddled.
I got so sick and tired of hearing his f*cking singing that I wrote a note to him and put it under his door.  Then I went out.  When I returned, there was a note under my door.  It was written by his wife, and it was angry and defiant.  "I pay my rent.  You no work.  I'm a good person, and so is my husband.  Yes I sing, and in church too.  Don't put no more paper under my door.  Don't knock on my door.  Call the office if you have a problem."  I'm going by memory.  It was very poorly written.  I'm sure I just improved it.  However, things got better.  The loud music stopped, and the as*hole stopped singing in the halls.  When he and I pass each other by, we glare at each other.  I don't like him.  Now, after quite a bit of peace, the loud music has returned and so has his singing through the wall we share.  So this is my life.  I wake up early, clean shit out of toilets, and come home to more shit.          

Trying

The Golden Gate Bridge: a life taker

Life is so complicated.  Today, as usual, I listened to the radio.  When I heard that a man who attempted to commit suicide by jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge was going to be featured on an hour-long talk show, I was all ears.
I've blogged about suicide before.  I have attempted to commit suicide myself.   I wanted to die.  The good news, for me, is that I finally realized I needed help with my depression, and I got some.  I'm still alive.  Where there's life, there's hope.
Over 2,000 people have committed suicide by jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge.  I even saw a documentary about this particular subject.  The filmmakers focused their camera on the bridge and got footage of people ending their lives by jumping off of it.  About 30-something (36?) people have survived that particular jump.  The man I listened to today jumped and survived it.  It was a good show.  This survivor of suicide spoke quite well.  He mentioned that there is a plan to put nets under the bridge, so no one will ever be able to use it to commit suicide again.  He said that people have complained that the nets would take away from the aesthetic value of the bridge.  He also said that that particular notion made him sick.  I concur.  He also said there should be no stigma when it comes to mental illness.  I agree 100%.  No one judges anyone for taking their high-blood-pressure medication; no one should judge anyone for taking their antidepressants.       
I realize that I have expressed a lot of negativity here.  Every time I did, I was just being honest.  Many times, I've felt that life sucks.  Many times, I have wished that I had never been born.  "Many times I've been alone, and many times I cried (The Beatles)."  But, please understand, I hate suicide.  Suicide is a monster.  It kills people every day.  As many issues as I have had, and continue to have, with life, I don't want to kill myself.  It is so f*cking ugly.  It's the mind killing the body.  The body doesn't want to die.  It struggles at the end of a noose and it tries as hard as it can to not drown, for instance.
So suicide, for me, isn't a real option.  I might not be able to do it anyway.  I have to try to make my life better.  I also have to try to make the lives of animals better.  Animals have provided me with a reason to live.  I want to help them, because they need it so desperately.     

Smartphone

 
If you have a smartphone, and you're looking at it all the freaking time, here's what you need to do.  First, give me your digits.  Then put it on vibrate and slide it up your backside.  Then I'll call you, and you'll receive a special treat. 

Jack & Berkeley

Jack & Berkeley are my friends.  They are also my friend's cats.  I love them.  They make life better.  Pets can extend the lives of people who take care of them.  Petting, and cuddling with, them has therapeutic value.
Berkeley is more outgoing than Jack.  It took me a while to get to know Jack.  Every time I visited my friend's house, for the longest time, he would hide from me the whole time I was there.  Eventually, he came around.  He scares easily.   We continue to have breakthroughs.  Just as I had done several times before, I spent the night on my friend's couch in his house.  But, this time, Jack slept on top of my lower legs.  Jack's a big cat; he's overweight.  But even though I was uncomfortable, I was happy to have him there.
Berkeley is cute too.  One time, he lied on the couch in a way that made a perfect pillow for me.  I just had to put my head (gently) toward the couch, and it would land on Berkeley.  He didn't mind being my pillow for a while. 
It's a shame people love their pets so much, but eat meat, and, by doing so, show they don't care about the animals they're eating.  If only people could imagine their cat or dog in place of the chicken, cow, pig, or turkey that had his of her life taken so they could eat whatever they want for lunch.  We're in control.  Humans are the strong, and animals are the weak.  Animals love it when we treat them well.  It's a real shame that we treat so many of them so cruelly.