It's A Sad, Sad Day...

Johnny Paycheck died. Bow ya' heads and set for a moment o' silence as we mourn this here great man, a man o' country music.

Grr

I've just been in a foul, non-writing mood lately.

Four million thoughts swim in my head. There's just too much to think about. Waaaay too much to think about.

Like Mr. Blond, for instance. I want to know how he really feels about me. I mean really feels about me. Where is this relationship headed? Where does he want it to go? Nowhere? Anywhere? Is this just a "right now, as long as it lasts" thing or more serious than that? I want to know these things. And for the life of me, I just can't get the cahones to ask. Which leads me to...

Lately I've been having this horrible thought streak. Like, "I want to go back out with my ex-fiancee" streak. And then I (mentally) slap myself on the head. No, I tell myself, it's not that you love him in that way anymore you fool. You're well aware of that. It's the relationship that you had that you miss. And boy do I. I miss the honesty, sometimes brutal, but always needed. I miss just running rampant with goofy thoughts and strange jokes...I miss being able to cry in front of someone and have them hold me...I miss...a lot of things. There's one thing I don't miss: being ignored. Why is it that the computer is such a draw? It's so silly to be jealous of a machine, but at the same time, my time and company are valuable and if you don't pay attention to me, well, of course I'll be miserable. It just depresses me. Especially with people who spend most of their day in front of it (no names to protect the guilty). So what's my strategy? Make my time and company even more limited. Which leads me to....

Workaholic. I damn near feel like working ten hours a day. I'm depressed and just don't want to think about how sad and silly my life really is. So if I'm not drinking, I'd rather be working. Get more money that way. Be able to buy a car...get an apartment...do all sorts of things. But I'm sure things wouldn't be so tough if I tightened up the checkbook a little and didn't spend so much. Which leads me to....

Mr. Blond again and his lack of a job. There comes a point when I just don't want to spend money on him. That, and sometimes I think he expects me to do things for him. That's not how I am; I can be a sympathetic ear, but unless you do something, that's the way things will be. I don't care if someone's in debt; my cousin has been trying to pay off her credit cards for TWO YEARS. It's the...I don't know what it is. I always feel like people are mooching off me. Grrr. Which leads me to....

And I think you get the point. I suppose you could say it's circular thinking, but really, there's just so many of them that it's a pretty big circle. And it's never the same. And those are just the thoughts about my life...it doesn't take into account all of the other thoughts I have about poetry, stories, and fantasies.

I wish I could just shut my brain off. Grr.