So I'm 32. I have no idea if that means anything. But I'll be damned if I haven't thought about nearly every topic on the face of the globe this morning, and it's not even lunchtime.
I woke up earlier than I had planned. Thought about masturbating. Didn't. Took a long, emo shower. You know, the kind where you actually sit down in the shower and let the water fall over you like warm rain, or a tropical waterfall or sommat (yes, I use the word "summat" instead of "something" sometimes, and I'm a Southern American guy, not a Brit. Gasp. Actually, one of my internet Brit buddies insists that I'm closet Brit...but I dye grass...). It was nice, even though I woke up in a shit mood b/c of money...not gonna go into specifics, but you know how a credit card can inflate your interest if you miss a payment or go over your balance...or both. I'm not good with money, and I made some bad decisions after my separation involving credit cards. Nothing spectacularly terrible, but small things add up, and now I'm digging myself out, one kiddie sand shovel at a time.
I walked downstairs and hugged my Dad good morning. I never outgrew giving my parents affection, and I never will. I'm not sure that my dad ever hugged any man before I was born, but my mom was always so affectionate that Dad learned to be. I asked my dad if he could advance me some cash, and I'd pay him back once I got a check from a slow-paying design client, or my next regular paycheck, whichever came first. So Dad writes me the check and tells me happy birthday. I tried to tell him no, that I'd pay him back, but he said he wouldn't take it...I could see in his eyes that it would make things tight for them. I hate that. I don't ever want to feel like I'm bleeding my parents dry...that's why I need to move out soon, after I get these damn credit card /loan bills paid off. Hopefully next year, barring any unforeseen disasters. And at this point I'm about to start to look for a 2nd job to insure the expediency of that plan.
Anyway, I drove my commute, talking to my God as I tend to do when I'm upset, extremely grateful, or just need to talk. I stopped by the usual banks to withdraw money and give the ex her child support after that. Then I got to work. Things have gotten a bit better since. I've been IM bombed all morning by friends. It's hard to stay completely pissed at yourself and the world itself when so many people let you know that they care that you're alive. I realize that in a lot of ways I'm lucky. I'm not living in a cardboard box. I have all my limbs. I never go hungry. I don't wake up each morning fearing death. Overall, I'm a lucky dog. But if one can't be emo and self indulgent on one's own birthday, when can one? Some may read this blog and think that I'm whining. Maybe I am. But again, it's my birfdee and I'll whine if I want to.
So yeah, it's been almost 2 years now, barring a few months, since the divorce. It's high time I got my shit straight. I made a promise to myself this morning that I would start getting my own personal ducks in a row by next year on Oct. 3rd, the most important being finances, the second being my weight and overall health. Maybe knowing that people are holding me accountable on the intertubes (by virtue of sheer voyeurism-driven embarassment alone) will help me crank my ever-aging arse into a higher gear.
the Design Monkey