  Ever have the sort of day/week/month/year(s) where you feel like King Claudius? Let me refresh your memory. Claudius was the not-nice new king of Denmark, the cause of something rotten, as Hamlet always complained. Claudius killed his brother, married his sister-in-law, and alienated his new stepson, who hated him way before Daddy Spook came back and told him that Claudius slipped something poisonous in to the ex-king�s ear. Why might someone feel like Claudius? Well, see, now, Hamlet is all bent on revenge, although he has a procrastination problem to get over.
Hamlet sneaks up on Claudius as Claudius is praying. Hamlet thinks �Hey, can�t kill him now, if he�s sitting there repenting, I just bought him a ticket to Heaven, and we just can�t have that.� Thing is though, Claudius isn�t repenting. He�s on his knees, he�s asking for forgiveness, but in a real half-assed way; he doesn�t want to give up what he rightfully stolen.
He feels bad for killing his brother, and stealing the kingdom, and what not, but he can�t feel truly repentant, since he really enjoys his current position. The other day Kurt mentioned to me that it baffles him that I am in a job where, conceivably, I can make as much money as I want, and I don�t. Make as much money as I want, that is. Why? I get discouraged quickly; I mean we�re talking faster than a speeding bullet.
It takes two people to slam the door in my face to ruin my day. Or about three snotty hang ups when I�m calling. So there�s that. There�s also the sneaking suspicion that I�m selling something that does nothing for anybody, some people I sell to could use the money to buy their kids a haircut or some groceries. I�m right behind cigarette sellers, I�m not selling anything useful, nice, etc. Ignorance is bliss, so by that rationale, I guess you can say I�m making people happy, that is until they call me and complain that their remote is too complicated, the installer didn�t come when he said he would, satellite or no, there�s still nothing on TV. And another thing? I can go out all fricken day, get doors slammed, for eight hours straight, and not sell a single, blessed thing. I sit on my ass and make two phone calls, and boom; I sold two systems in 26 minutes. Why don�t I go out there every single day and spend the full eight hours freezing my ass off and then go home and call for a few more hours? Why do I ask Kurt to come with me, drive me over to subdivisions, and come in with me to help me close a sale? I mean, I know part of it has to do with the fact that I can�t function properly on 3 hours sleep and half a day crying. I know that bit, but then there�s the other bit, the deep seated thought that I am lazy, because I don�t give a rat�s ass about how many dishes I sell so long as I sell some, and I don�t care how much money I make as long as we�re not starving to death.
I haven�t even got my shit together enough to bring my resume down to the bakery. How does this tie in to Claudius? I have been doing stupid things, and although I�m sorry for them, I�m not doing much to make amends.
To sum up, I give up too easily, I look to Kurt for support much more often than I should, I let myself get sad over this and other stupid things, further impeding my progress as a good salesperson, and I feel that selling dishes to a lot of people who could be using their money for something productive (yeah, I know I�m being a self righteous pig, but damn, there are more things important than 266 channels in digital, right? Anybody? Like making sure you don�t have lice and passing it along to some traveling sales rep�) The landlady came in and asked why our apartment stank today.
She happened to be standing by the kitty litter, but for some reason, I not only take personal offence at the remark, but also started to worry about the possibility of her and he husband deciding out we get because of our animals. (Right now we�re at three, Einstein is on the missing list for the last three days, we have our lovely fat Fida, Lucas, and Cordy, who the landlady thinks we�re fostering, when in truth, we�re pretty sure that Cordy would die, then I would if we were to part with her.
She�s a pain in the ass, but I know what happens to dogs that aren�t puppies in the SPCA, and she makes up for all of her faults; not to mention her faults are improving. ) It seems to me when I have something to rely on; Kurt, my parents, etc, I rely on them too much. I think I have to not rely on them in order to keep myself going, but then I end up collapsing, and have to rely on them anyways.
And Kurt told me that his coming to school was a mistake. He�s probably right, but at the same time, I wonder if there ever would have been a good and right time for him to go to school. I sort of think excuses would happen, and he�d never go, and he�d be lost to what he truly excels at. But I also know that I�m not sure I have the ability to support us; I mean, I�m doing a pretty shitty job so far, and as soon as I really, really go the distance, I end up on my face. 
