"It's enough to drive you crazy if you let it".

This blog was started basically so that I could have a place to rant when my love of fashion gets dismissed, ignored or insulted. However having recently found somewhere where loving fashion doesn't get me funny looks I've not felt the need to rant so much and have just been writing more general thoughts on here. However the rant is back.
Like most people I'm not really being myself at my work. No matter what your job is you have to wear a certain thing, conduct yourself in a certain way and get on with the job you are paid to do. That goes without saying. However when you do your job purely because it pays the bills and when people keep telling you that your lucky just to have a job because of the current state of the economy, you can't help but feel trapped in a job you didn't ever really want. Especially when that job doesn't fulfill you. Recently I have been enjoying a rather creative period and have been writing regulary, usually feeling pretty proud of the end result. However all that creativity just highlights how unfulfilling I find the 9 to 5. Those who are lucky enough to earn money out of the thing they love should appreciate every single moment of the experience. Whenever I hear a creative person say that they could never handle the 9 to 5, I feel like yelling at them, because I can't handle it either but I don't have a lot of choice, I hope my situation will change and I really hope that if it does I'm grateful for it. But right now the day to day grind is getting to me because I feel this urge to be creative and I have to stifle it and write memos instead. One of the biggest problems is not being around like-minded people. At least if you can spent your lunch hour talking about the latest fashion week and which shows you liked it makes the day go that little bit faster. I don't even get that. I bought the latest edition of American Vogue the other day and decided to take it to work to read during my lunch hour, a way to enjoy a type of creativity at the office. As I was heading back to my desk with the magazine tucked under my arm one of the girls I worked with was heading out to the staff room with her lunch. She asked me if I was still reading my magazine or if you could borrow it. I told her she could borrow it if she wanted and told her what magazine it was. Her response was to screw up her face and tell me she'd pass. I wasn't particularly surprised, if I'd had the latest copy of Heat I can almost guarantee that she'd be interested in that. American Vogue not so much. I wasn't disappointed, angry or anything, in fact if she had eagerly grabbed it out my hands I would have been really surprised. I just really wished I worked with people who didn't turn their nose up at one of the best magazines on the shelves, without even a second thought. I just felt genuinely sad that this was the situation I found myself in. I returned to my desk and my letters, holding onto my Vogue for all I was worth. At that moment it was the only thing keeping me afloat.