Ugh... I wish I could find a job, especially one I could support myself on - I'd really like to live on my own, but, well, that requires money. If I could lift fifty pounds, I could probably get a job filling orders and stuff in a warehouse or something, but forty is my limit. I'd go to the gym to improve on that, but my parents for some reason think it's perfectly fine to pay for a gym membership my dad barely uses but too expensive to add me to that membership, even though I would use it, if someone would take me, and with no source of income and all the money I've got going toward paying for my service dog, I'm not in a position to be paying for my own membership. If I could drive, I could get a job doing that, but there are several factors that mean that's not a good idea, and it's not really things I can work on - or at least, if it is, I don't know how. If I could talk to people all day, I could get a job dealing with customers, but if I'm overstimulated or very stressed, I can't talk understandably, or at all sometimes, no matter how hard I try. An hour or two of talking to people is about all I can manage at the best of times, and then I need two or three days to recover. If I simply didn't want to, I'd do it anyway, because I also don't want to be still living with my parents and completely dependent on them at age 24. And then instead of telling me that I'm not hired, and maybe even why, I just hear nothing back from the few places I can find to apply to, so I don't even know what I'm doing wrong. Ugh - job hunting sucks dingo's kidneys.
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Yet in my new wildness and freedom I almost welcome the bitterness of alienage. For although nepenthe has calmed me, I know always that I am an outsider; a stranger in this century and among those who are still men.
-H. P. Lovecraft, "The Outsider"