The Fallback

So, the last few weeks have been a little interesting. I haven't played a concert in about a month, and it's starting to take a toll on my minds rambling. Since I've had so much time to think about, well, everything, it seemed like a good time to get a rant out.
The place that I've been working at for almost two years now is undergoing a corporate renovation. They're taking away my tip cup, which essentially is gas money, and are just trying to ignore the fact that they stay open because of drunks and junkies. The back of our shirts say "I see drunk people". That'll be gone soon. The little family owned place that has been there for me and all the other workers until recently, is turning into another McDonalds. Ok, that's easy enough to get over I guess. So move on to another job. Well, my friend Moe is opening up a place, that seems good enough to work at. And he needs people to make sure it runs well. I go in, talk to him, and suggest some people that I know can help out, and make the place into the kind of place that he wants it to be. Another cook and a baker to be exact. Both people that I work with now at Steakout. So, my friend Jess came in today to drop off some samples of the stuff she took to Moe (which I carted her around town to get the ingredients and recipies) and she told me something fantastic. Moe told her that her and the other guy were pretty much going to work there. And I might not be. Fan-freaking-tastic. The whole point of this was so that I could get out of Steakout and into another place and hey, even work with people that I like. Real quick synopsis. I do work, other people benefit, I get screwed.
This has been happening for way too long. I like helping people, I do. Jess needed a new job, so I found her one. Moe needs a baker, got him one. Mike wanted out of Steakout, done. Me, still at Steakout. Still getting walked all over, and starting to get back into things that it took me too long to get out of before. Now's going to be that time of year that Anth gets super depressed, super introverted, and more outwardly destructive than the rest of the year.
I guess that's what I'm good at, and maybe that's what I'm here for. God doesn't throw things at you that you can't handle. I'm good at being depressed, I'm good at being walked on and used. I've grown accustomed to it. I'll bend over backwards for someone that I just met, because I value relationships. They're really the only thing that matter. Inter-personal matters are what I thrive on. I'll put myself in the poor house if you really need something, not because I like you, but because I know what you want or need is more important to you than it is to me. I thought about ignoring situations like that forever. Just move. It's not that hard, I've got bills, but I can get a job anywhere down south, because I'm from the north, and people down there are just plain dumb. Then some lyrics struck me. "If I could start again, a million miles away, I would keep myself. I would find, a way." So regardless of where I move, or what situations I put myself in, I'm going to be the same person. The depressed, flakey, giant teddy bear that'll always be there when you call, and need something and your life is a mess, but that you mysteriously forget about when it's all good. Forever and always, on that downward spiral I fall. Whiney bitch rant done.