Writers Block, or in my Case: Complainers Block

I seem to only be able to write amazing read worthing blog posts when I am either

  1. Hating my life and feeling sorry for myself
  2. Having the most amazing day ever
  3. Fuming because I just got cut off by a stupid driver that doesn’t know what a fucking BLINKER is

Today is not one of those days, but I bet when you read one of my posts you will totally be able to tell what type of day I am having

I am trying to commit to something and this post is like my lazy ass way of checking off writing for this week.

Till the next driver cuts me off of the 105 freeway, hopefully I can pull some amazing post out of my butt.

 

SamieKatt

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Quit Your Day Job …… (I Wish)

Working for an established big company is the most rewarding job ever!

NOT!!

Some people are born to work for others and others are born to work for themselves. I did not realize this until my third job. It has been 7 years of working for big companies and on my third year of my current job it finally hit me why I am so unhappy. I hate working for others. I have a bad habit of putting my heart and soul into these jobs that just take me for granted and use me for their advantage. I have sleepless nights of worrying about the issues at work, I downloaded Outlook for work on my iPhone and monitor all the emails coming in and answer questions while I’m eating cereal on a Sunday morning. BUT I am not getting paid for it. 

I have had my hair fall out in clumps, breakouts all over my body, anxiety attacks, bathroom break cries for a job that pays me way below the pay scale of my duties. My boyfriend always tells me to stop going above and beyond on everything because my bosses have gotten used to it. I can’t help it, I was born a natural over achiever! I want to be the best ALL the time!

I was brought up on such a creative background, with a strong moral upbringing. Being told never to let anyone run you over and make you feel inferior. Now being 24 I have realize that I have forgotten all this and became someone I promised myself I would never be. 

I never wanted to be that person that was married to their job unless it was something that I have created from scratch. I believe my issue is that I want perfection all the time and if I stray away from a solid Monday through Friday job and on to the unknown I won’t have the control of not failing and I hate FAILING. 

As a teen I always pictured my life as graduating FIDM, creating my own clothing line and becoming as big and successful as Forever 21. Living in a loft with sky-high ceilings with my 2 cats, and spending my weekends photographing the life of Los Angeles. But those were just dreams. I am now an involuntary college drop out, with 2 cats, working a Monday-Friday job, that I have to meditate my mind away from thinking about on my days off.

I am so unhappy….

unhappy

As a firm believer as the Law of Attraction and manifestation, I know that I create the life I live. I need to burst that barrier of fear of failure and strive for my dreams! Or as my dad would say, “Stop whining unless you’re going to do something about it!” Let’s hope my next post is about how I have accomplished all my dreams, and am a successfull multimillionaire. HA

Until next time,

♥ Samie Katt ♥

Hello, it’s me….

Samantha, Sam, Sammy, Samie, Sammie, SamieKatt (as all my social media shows) or Samantha Allison-Marie, as my mother would say when I was in deep shit. Either way, it’s the same to me.

But, who am I?

What does my life bring to this world that makes it so God damn interesting for me to post it on world wide web for all to display? Well, to the huge audience of (probably) 2 people reading this and my cats… Nothing really. I am just your average 24 year old involuntary college drop out (as my WordPress site displays) living in 2017; where no matter how hard I work I cannot afford to buy a house in Los Angeles or keep up with all the social media memes. I am stuck in the limbo of trying to adult and holding on to that last string of being a child like every one else in my generation.

I am a cat lover or crazy cat lady, I wear that hashtag proudly

#crazycatlady.

I have probably have made over 50 million grammatical errors in this excerpt, despite it only being a few sentences long.

#grammerpolicecrucifyme

I go through fits of inspiration and creativity that soon are defeated by re-watches of American Horror Story on Netflix.

#netflixandchill

I have tried to resurrect this blog from the dead over 25 times in the past year.

#cantcommit

I was a genius in high school with a 4.0, high honors, AP classes, yearbook editor-in-chief, youth group founder, that balanced extra curricular activities better than my cat stands on his hind legs (and he does that pretty damn well)

#letthepastgosam

I spend my time buying inspiration books about the law of attraction but end up binge reading Gillian Flynn’s book Gone Girl.

#crimestoryjunkie

Every Monday for the past 3 years is the first day that I start a “diet” but, end up consuming a cheese burger with grilled onions and animal fries from my local In N Out on Tuesday.

#likeisaidcantcommit

I have 2 cats: Wasabi, the satanic version of me that is the equivalent of my “would be” pay back child and Sushi the innocent, spoiled, sweet soul I used to be.

#crazycatladytimes2

I work an over full time job that I am constantly trying to get hit by a car or abducted by aliens so I won’t ever have to go back to.

#ihatework

I have absolutely no friends outside of my squad of totally cool coworkers, who have families and real friends to see outside of the 50 hour work week.

#mycatsaremyfriends

I am not close to anyone in my family; but my mom and step-dad weekly send me religious bible verses that sum up to me going to hell and my dad occasionally texts me to see if I have not been kidnapped and held hostage by criminals. I am pretty sure that my neighbors chihuahua would get a better ransom if he was help hostage; work would just ask me if I was still coming in.

#loner

I have been in a 7 year relationship that I cannot believe how freaking fast the years went by and I have not suffocated him with a pillow in his sleep. I’m just kidding I love him, but I have been reading Gone Girl too much and totally think I could have gotten away with it.

#iamnotafuturemurderer

So, summing it all up I am an anti-social, loner, crazy cat lady who dropped out of college, involuntarily (but we’ll get to that in another story.) I hope that I can keep this blog going and have some sense of commitment to something other than that of my daily binge watching of bad reality TV shows on Hulu. My goal is to keep this blog filled with useless information about me, really hilarious stories of my embarrassing life, and anything else that pops into my 1,000,000,000 thought per second mind. Oh, and of course I will try to add a dash of annoying cat pictures.

Thank you to the 2 people reading this (probably my co-workers that I have forwarded this link to) and my diabolic cats that I have force read this out loud to 27 times.

xoxo

SamieKatt

 

 

 

 

The Bad Case of the Heart Shaped Balloons

Ugh, Valentine’s Day.

I have never been a fan of the red ballooned holiday, even after being in a relationship for almost 6 years.

My despise for the holiday dates back to elementary school when my mom would make embarrassing Valentine’s Day cards with my face plastered in the center of a handcrafted, glittery red heart. All the students would be prancing around class placing their little gifts in one another’s card baskets. I would cringe as I would see the little fingers wrapped around the stamped paper with the little “made with love” personalized stamp marked at the back of every card. I could hear the “Aw’s” from the teacher’s assistant as she held hers up for all to see (as if everyone did not have one already) I stared at the goofy, crooked teethed smile of the acting headshot photo my mother chose to plaster on every card, and stuffed my face with heart shaped Chocolates.

Now fast forward to high school, I was a meek book worm with a 4.0 and a camera glued to my hand. Everyone in the school knew me as “Yearbook Girl.” Not a bad title I might say as many of my friends had much worse. As the blood red holiday rolled around once more my friends and I would be tortured with the big bouquets of flowers smashing us in the face in every hallway. As “yearbook girl” it was my job to document every holiday in the school. So inevitably I had to speak to every girl with hot pink MAC lipstick rubbed against her lips about how she adores her boyfriend, the “love of her life!” She would gush about the tasty chocolates and the morning serenade he preformed for her in the quad. I tried hard not to roll my eyes as I recall her boyfriend swapping saliva with an unidentified girl in the shadows of the auditorium. But, that wasn’t my place to say anything. After the brief interview I would take a cliche photo of her smacking a big, pink, kiss, smack dab on his cheek. “Thank’s for your time! Have a wonderful Valentine’s day!” Once my quote book was full and my camera battery dead, my BFF and I would run to my house, buy HUGE burritos, fries and a banana split and stuff our faces while watching some overly exagerated chick flick, complaining about not having cute boyfriends.

Now it’s February 14th of 2016, and I’m just scrolling through Instagram and all I see is the boasting pictures of an inexpierienced couple with their plastered smiles and their extravagant roses. It could possibly be the torturous Valentine’s day cards of my elementary days or my sour outlook of love in High School, but I still cannot tolerate the fabricated love that Valentines Day brings. Like I have embedded in my fiancés brain, “do not spoil me on Valentine’s Day”. If you love me, it should not be conserved for only one day of the year, but every day! I am not talking about breakfast in bed on a Monday and flowers every Tuesday, but little reminders here and there that I’m still on your mind. Call me bitter if you may, but   I swear if one more person asks me what I did on Valentines day I might just be signing up for anger management in result of smacking them on the head.