I am exhausted. And I am ill. And I am tired of babysitting people double my age who are too pathetic to do it themselves.These people, they are caricatures, ridiculous and selfish.
I would pay to see what would happen if I quit, oh how I wish I could quit. I loved this job. But now I am unofficially running a shop that is so far gone it’s like shovelling snow in blizzard.
I wish I was eighteen; I would have walked out and told them all to shove all manner of sharp objects where the sun don’t shine. Or sixteen; I would have quit in a note that said exactly what I thought of them. Or twenty; and I would have just never showed up for work again.
But no, I have to be responsible now.
I can’t do this any more.
I think what’s happening in Glasgow has little to do with the referendum. The city has always been divided by religion and beliefs, the Catholics and Protestants, Celtic and Rangers. Those two sides are just using this as an excuse to clash.
I’m not great, but I’m also not there. A lot of other people in Scotland are having a much harder time than me, for obvious reasons.
Yes or No, please keep paying attention to what’s going on and please be good to each other. Change will come only if Scotland doesn’t allow itself to become split down the middle, where people define each other based on their answer to one question.
Alright, two questions. “Celtic or Rangers?” is a given.
Remus Arthur Potter, you were named after two men who looked out for my safety and cared about my well-being out of altruism and decency rather than because I was a tool for them to use or because I was someone’s son.