Even as I was riding on the bus today, reflecting on the stressful day of belittlement and reminding, that I hated my life. I hate that I'm doing a fast-food/entry-level job that is stressing me out and a whole list of complaints I've gone on about regarding life in Winnipeg. I feel my muscles will fall off my bones, I'm so tired. I was cleaning up the dining area, holding back the tears over the stress. I had to fight hard enough not to look like my eyes were moist with frustration and anger. Even before handing in my resume to this place, I knew what I was in for: I've had this type of job before and didn't want to go backwards in my life, but here I am. I could disregard the measely cash-flow, but I hate what would come after that.

I remember an episode of "Cheers" where Carla realized that she couldn't go back and capture the lost adolescence she missed out on, that no matter what kind of crap was dumped on her, that something positive would come out of it. A minute later, Cliff Claven bent over and split his pants and made her laugh. I fully believe in that. If it's not a sight for sore eyes or a phonecall to cheer me up, there's always something. It's not even one of those thoughts where you try to think positive, it just happens. I don't know if I go looking for the lost diamond in the pile of shit, but something's bound to happen.