Sod It All

Controlling my emotions is very important to me. Like anybody, I will experience a wide range of varied emotions at one point or another. Unlike most, however, I do my best to prevent them from manifesting. In no way am I comfortable sharing how I feel; I would much rather just deal with it inwardly and endure. This is a change from that status quo.

I fucking hate Texas. We have been here since April 24, and will not be leaving until June 19. Due to our three-day transition week in Jackson, we have missed out on the full transition week and accompanying weekend that most teams are given, as well as the travel time both ways between. All told, this accounts for almost two extra weeks at this project, as opposed to every other team in our unit and all but about five from the entire Denver campus. Combine that with the oppressive heat and humidity (heat indexes over 100 degrees), the absolute dearth of activities nearby, and the total lack of things within walking distance, and I am sick and tired of his goddamned state.

The project itself is also pissing me off in a number of ways. Our new site supervisor, Rory, is a laid-back and funny guy that does his best to remain involved with us during the workday. He tends to look towards several people, myself included, whenever he needs a job done; the three or four of us are his go-to guys (all of us are male, incidentally) . This has created resentment and bitterness towards both Rory and those of us who he looks to within the rest of the teams. They raise allegations of sexism, despite the fact that there are several guys between the two teams that he does not ask for assistance. They apparently have yet to consider that the three/four of us constantly ask him if there is anything he needs done and are the first to step up whenever Rory or the other supervisor needs people to do a job. Furthermore, once we are given a job, we finish it; others are more inclined to stand around and chat on site. Of course, when I attempted to raise these points, I was immediately met with responses of 'Obviously you don't have a problem with him; you're a guy!' No, you fucking fools, WE STEP UP.

And that brings me to my last, and possibly biggest, source of stress: my team. Not only do many of them congregate aimlessly and chat, then wonder why the supervisors don't immediately look to them...they also turn relatively small incidents into HUGE dramatic episodes. (For example: when the kitchen at the temple was being used to prepare food for a big festival this weekend, the cooks accidentally misplaced a piece of Tupperware belonging to one of my teammates. Apparently choosing to ignore the fact that it could be replaced for a dollar at Walgreens, she absolutely flipped shit; she questioned every single one of us regarding its whereabouts as if we had deliberately stolen and destroyed, say, her cellphone. She then proceeded to complain and bitch about the Tupperware for no less than three days, constantly airing her disgust that people would be using, in her words, 'our kitchen'. She also apparently chose to ignore the fact that it was in no way our kitchen; we were very graciously being allowed to use the kitchen free of charge by the Buddhist monks, who were organizing the aforementioned festival). It is this kind of minor, petty shit combined with spoiled, selfish people that drive me up a wall. I have been talked down to like I was some sort of underling (from both the girl described in the Tupperware story and another power-hungry Corps member, not a team leader) and treated like I was a four-year-old (from a different Corps member only a few years older than I). I have been living with this team continuously since the beginning of our time in New Orleans (around March 4th) and am counting the minutes until I can get away from them. (Disclaimer: there are some people on my team that are hard workers and very cool about things. This little rant does not apply to them).

So, I will do something that I normally loathe, and lay my feelings out. I am physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted. My patience is frayed thin; it takes a good deal of willpower every day to avoid going off on a Denis-Learyesque, bridge-burning, alienating rant punctuated by me laying my fist through a wall. I have not seen my friends from Denver in four months, and have not seen or hung out with my friends and fellows from back in the 'Burgh in five. Despite the fact that I am halfway through the program, I still have no idea what I want to do afterward, and little in the way of usable skills to get me there. To be honest, I'm very lonely down here; apart from one or two people on my team and a similar number on the Perry Point team, I don't have anybody that I'm close enough to to talk with and really want to hang out with.

Sod it all. June 27th. June 27th. June 27th. I'll just keep telling myself that, and hope it lives up to what I need it to be.