Twenty days later, and I already have more to rant about. It’s still going to be a little all over the place, but it will remain around the topic of college.
Procrastination– a lovely word some people often use to describe me (not that exact word; a variation of it). Here’s the thing: I don’t procrastinate. I simply do not have my priorities together. Once I realized my passion for my major was dying, which honestly just might be temporary because of the tiresome workload, I started putting my schoolwork at the bottom of my priority list. Trust me, I know how bad that is. Since I was younger, I’ve had a passion for four things: writing, fashion, food, and media (like, television shows and movies). Over the past year or so, those four things have reached the top of my priority list. I’ve spent more money on food than I think I ever have. Recently (since, like, January), I have spent a good portion of money on buying clothes to showcase my sense of style better and dress like the fashion blogger I aspire to be. I literally put writing blog posts and making improvements to this site before doing my homework; writing on here before doing my homework is probably why I’m usually up until one or two a.m. For media, I just declared a minor in radio/TV/film (that’s the actual name of it; there’s not three); I haven’t started classes for it yet, but I’ve already put it before my major. Despite all of this, I’m still making decent grades, especially towards my major. Again, the passion and motivation aren’t present, but I still don’t procrastinate; my priorities are just kind of out of whack. I guess you could say my side hustles are slowly becoming my main hustle, and I know I need to fix that; I just wish people would stop telling me and others that I procrastinate.
In some ways, college can be like high school. For example, college has it’s fair share of douche bags. As I talked about in Talking About Sensitive Topics at Work, I work with a renounced douche. This is not me being mean (because I genuinely hate being mean; if I come across that way, I’m sorry); he literally called himself a douche bag. Anyway, he has struck again. He said something super inappropriate about another girl in our workplace, and I wrote it down (I have a meeting with our supervisor on Thursday, and I’m going to report him then). When he saw me writing it down, I told him it was for my secret job (aka, this site). I will never tell him about my blog; if he stumbles upon it, that’s a different story. If he stumbles upon this or the previously mentioned post, I have no regrets. Regrets do not do anything for self-improvement and self-growth; I’ve learned that recently. Anyway, Rey (the name I gave him) tried to guess my secret job and asked these three questions:
- Does it involve your opinion?
- Is it about men?
- Is it sexual?
I answered “yes” to the first question and “no” to the last two. When I responded “no” to the last question, he literally said, “If it’s not sexual, it’s not funny” before walking away. Certified douche.
On this same day, I walked by a couple of guys in our dining hall. My earbuds were in, but there was no music playing (the perfect way to hear what people are saying while making them think you can’t hear them; I hope that makes sense). One of the guys said, “Look at her. Her a** is flat.” Then they both laughed while I made eye contact with them (I’m really bad about making eye contact with people). Certified douches. The frustrating thing is more of those comments have come up since that day. I ignore them because I freaking love my body, but it’s also very degrading. I haven’t seen this kind of behavior from males since high school; I know it still exists (even outside of college), but it’s been very prominent lately.
Recently, I have dealt with my fair share of liars, especially one person in particular. No lie, I used to be a liar. Like, I will never forget convincing someone in middle school that I was a Hawaiian native; I came up with this long elaborate story, and the person actually believed me. Anyway, when the July before my first semester of college hit, I told myself to stop lying. Going to college started a new chapter, and I didn’t want to write the new chapter with a false pen (that was supposed to be clever, but I don’t think it was). I wouldn’t get anywhere in this new era if I was keeping up with old habits. I don’t know if any of this is makes sense, but I surely hope it does. Anyway, I am acquaintances with someone who either full on lies, is possibly lying, or only tells half the truth, and it is so incredibly frustrating. Honestly, if we were not involved in the same organization, I would drop her. The most frustrating thing about it is she started off super genuine (or probably just private) and suddenly turned into someone who is slightly stuck up and lies a lot. If you’re going to lie, at least try not to get caught; stick to one story.
Lastly, going back to my scholarship job (kind of), I am tired of being targeted by my supervisor. I can’t go into too much detail because A) I still work there and B) I need to save my energy for ranting about this for the meeting I’m going to have. Long story short, my supervisor likes to nit pick with me, and I genuinely don’t appreciate it. Our job as student workers is to be receptionists. There are about four or five us scheduled at the same time (I can’t remember the exact number); one person is at the receptionist desk, and every hour, we switch out. When you’re not at the desk, you sit at a table behind a cubicle and pretty much do nothing. Well, I was tired as heck and decided to take a nap. Not even five minutes later, she comes to the back, roughly taps me on my sunburned shoulder, and tells me, “There’s no sleeping on the job.” However, there is another student worker who will literally create an entire makeshift bed on the floor and go to sleep; not a word is said to him. This probably doesn’t scream “Targeting!” to you, but this is the only example I think is safe to write about right now. Again, I still have the job and a meeting to go to. On top of all that, after over a year of working together, she still can’t say my name right. I asked her (quite a few times) that if she can’t say my name, please just say my initials. She doesn’t do that. There’s no respect for me, and I’m trying really hard not to lose my respect for her.
I’m just tired of it all.