One month and Seven days

One month and seven days is how long it took for me to have my first emotional breakdown.

At around 11:30 pm I was walking home from the bus stop, after what seemed like the worlds worst shift. I called my boyfriend to complain about how much I hate my new job and deserve better. He told me one of our good friends wanted to talk to me because he wanted someone "cheerful and happy." I told him I wasn't in a very cheerful mood but he handed me the phone anyway.
My drunk friend was sad (very emotional) talking about his love life. We talk for a few minutes and my 'advice' was enough to make him happy.
He then switches to "How's San Francisco?"
"It's so great," I say as the tears start rolling down my face.
He hands the phone back to my boyfriend and he asks me whats wrong.
"I'll call you back, I have to pee."
I walked into my house and straight to the bathroom, because I actually did have to pee, and started crying my little heart out.

The tiniest sentence is what set me off. To be completely honest, San Francisco IS great. I live in a beautiful city, surrounded by beautiful people. As hard as school is, I really like my classes and I like learning.

I got a new job recently, as a barista. I've had a barista job before, the only difference is this one has a high request for drinks covered in caramel sauce and blended drinks. I've worked lots of part-time jobs in my life because I'm not the type of person that can work a job I hate. And if we're being honest again, I've quit all of my jobs.

Last night after I spent 30 minutes in the bathroom, smeared eyeliner all over my face, I realized that I've reached a point in my life where I can no longer work these meaningless, life draining jobs. Somewhere between someone teaching me to make whipped cream and learning how to make a blended drink I told myself I couldn't do this anymore.

Of course I'm smarter than I used to be and am not going to quit until I figure out what I'm going to do. (I've done that before. I was very poor for a while) I feel as though I have too much talent that is being wasted. What exactly is my talent? I'm not sure. It might be finally making a shop for my jewelry. It might not be. I'll never actually know if I don't try.

Last night was very much needed. I needed to feel like I've hit 'rock bottom' so I could change something. If I just kept telling myself everyday that I was OKAY, I was never actually going to change anything. Besides, a good cry never hurt anybody.

San Francisco WILL get better. I've already made a good friend that I enjoy spending time with (we saw local natives & got our eyebrows done) and all of my roommates are great gals. I've already learned a valuable life lesson one month in, I'm excited to see what other life lessons I'll learn the next few months.