job search house search forever with the nervousness i am behind future uncertain ah! ah! ah!

It's all interviews and job applications and no calls back ever. I dress in button-down shirts and black pants and feel awkward for it.

The only thing that gives me confidence was my saying with certainty that no, I am not returning to Philadelphia for the summer. It's the only option to my future I chose to seal off, a fallback plan I'd rather not have, an awkward scenario I won't have to live. Saturday I move out. I don't know to where. My things will be in storage if nowhere else.

Today I had an interview for a job selling vacuums, and I thought it went okay. There were some awkward moments that might've been what resulted in my not getting the job- I couldn't remember the phone numbers or the addresses of either previous employers or personal references for the paperwork, as I usually take applications home- but the interview said it was mostly down to the one-on-one interview, and maybe that didn't come off so hot. I thought it went alright. There were no returned phone calls.

There've been other jobs to seem like sure things that have fallen apart for my lack of a car.

Tomorrow I hand in an application to Goodwill, which will probably not pay as well as a job selling vacuum cleaners. Tomorrow I will look once more to the Classifieds ads.

I almost wrote a post a few days ago about my mom. I realized she didn't share a last name with me, and as such could be a personal reference if she was willing to just vouch for me and lie up an anecdote where she was not my mom. I think this kind of thing is completely acceptable: You'll lie to a kid, why not lie for them? But my mom's all about that kind of morality which goes against most people's ideas of decency, and as such she refused. I don't want to be the kind of kid who hates their mom, the kind where it's all they talk about and they're not particularly well-adjusted. But my mom's personality just grows more irritating with every day. I can only hope that she is starting to realize that the way she raised me did not lead to me having the same morals as she. Hopefully she realized this eons ago, with her getting all up in arms in regards to obscenity and offensiveness and all the other things I hold dear. She's funny: She realizes and probably assumes that I'm drinking booze and smoking drugs, but probably thinks I don't watch South Park and things she finds offensive, which I totally watched anyway when I lived with her. I really wonder what things she think stuck. Maybe the Christianity, but my conception of God is completely different from hers.