I have absolutely no interest in finding myself further in debt by opening up another card.
And let’s be real, racking up a little extra debt is tempting when I have only $13 in my bank account. Your shiny, plastic temptations come when I want to rip open those envelopes the most.
But you’re only out to hurt me. You’re only out to ruin my credit. Which is ironic because your a credit company.
And, to add further insult, you’re letters are inconvenient to throw away. I have to shred them to prevent someone else jacking up my credit after they steal my identity. I have $13 to my name and I don’t own a shredder – stop making my life hard.
I’m working to bring down my debt. I got a second job and I’m freezing my current credit card. I don’t buy coffee out anymore. In making significant changes to better my financial situation.
Stop pre approving me. Stop tempting me. Leave me alone to work off my debt in peace.
We’re getting to know each other quite well. I haven’t seen Sleep in quite some time and I’m learning interesting aspects about you, my new friend, in Sleep’s absence:
When you roll around, I can’t think clearly. I spend my time contemplating the weight and buoyancy of pink elephants or if my books on the shelf move when I breathe. It’s the brink of madness with you.
You are this hazy point in the morning where the dawn hasn’t broke and most, insomnia-less, people are still asleep. Even though I’m not asleep, the world feels like a dream.
Revelations come frequently but, by 9AM, I can only remember having the revelation and how significant it was — I can’t actually remember what the revelation was over.
Emotions run rampant.
You are entertaining on occasion. Like, in college, when I would make the bleary walk home with you and remember all the happy times I had that night in a drunken fog. Those are times that hanging with you seem appropriate.
I hope you won’t take this personally when I tell you that I can do without you for a while. You roll in and I’m counting the number hours of sleep I have left before I need to get to work (if I fell asleep, that is). I dread you hanging over me as I lie in bed.
So, perhaps, if you could go through your time alone tonight, that would be ideal. I don’t want to hang. I want to miss you completely; Sleeping, blissfully as you pass me by. Then, in a few months, if I’m out with friends and find myself awake with you, I’ll truly enjoy your presence.
Three days into this job and my desk is already cluttered. I already hear people saying, “I don’t know, ask Olivia.”
And you allow me to wear jeans.
For this and so many more reasons, I’m grateful to be here with you.
It’s nice to feel needed and useful. And it’s nice to know that I can make an impact on a company that’s doing something good for this world. It’s awesome to actually be paid a decent wage for the hard work I put in.
And you are filled with employees who are all nice and truly love what they do. Which makes me joyful to head to work in the morning.
I hope that, finally, I have found a place I can stick with for a long time. A place where I can cultivate a work family and find myself as I work.
I’m trying to remember how I knew my true self before you came along. I must have known myself but never truly knew myself until your endless questions appeared to guide me like a spirit animal from quiz to quiz.
Which Classic Disney character am I? Chip. What occupation did I have in a past life? Poet. What Hunger Games District do I belong to? District 8. I know what category I fall into for nearly all pop-culture references and there is something oddly satisfying about it.
You fulfill this sense of necessity to live in an altered reality where I truly do fight to the death in the hopes of becoming the ultimate victor while simultaneously having an alter-ego of a cartoon chipmunk. Perhaps it has something to do with this urge to be somewhere or someone else when life really isn’t going the way we’d like. You provide an outlet to explore a life we never will have – and why I’d rather be living out Hunger Games fantasizes instead of being safely behind a desk, I just don’t know. But heck, here I am, filling out another quiz.
You serve a greatly, insignificant purpose that distracts me from my day and pushes me into other personalities for a while (like Sybil but less crazy…or more crazy…hard to tell) to help me know just where I rank on the awesome scale. . . Is there a “How Awesome am I?” quiz?
So, thanks, Buzzfeed Quizzes, for making me into all of my favorite characters and rendering me completely useless at work.