What happens when the thing you exclusively write about no longer exists? This problem happened today, and I am writing through it the best I can.

I can’t, nor do I want to, detail the specifics. However, you should know that the job I’ve currently had for the past six months, and which has already been incredibly stressful, was, and is, put into jeopardy today. None of the reasons why it was put into jeopardy were my fault. Believe me, if they were, I would admit it here. I’ve said many horrible things here, and most of them have been about myself. I don’t know why I’m trying to convince you that this isn’t my fault. First, you probably don’t care. Second, you’re probably not reading this. Third, there’s always the off chance that my boss is an avid JBlog reader, though I have reasons to believe she’s not. For example, she doesn’t give me pointers on how many days I should wait before calling a date that you think went well but weren’t sure anymore.

So, I’m leaving work, and everything gets blurry. I start stressing about how I’ll be able to pay for gas for a car that I guess I won’t need to use anymore in the first place.

Now I’m sitting here, dreading a first date I have tomorrow. I have to go out and be friendly and pleasant and charming while at the same time have the burden of losing my job in my head. It’s a good thing there’s beer, because I’m way too young to start heroin again.

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