Bent Words

Bent Words

September 23, 2010

I don't even know what's going on with me lately.

Well that's, for the most part, totally untrue.

I know exactly what's going on with me and I'm pretty much just pissed about it. Problem is, I can't write about it. Or at least I haven't written about it. Why? I feel ashamed to write about it. I feel embarrassed (and pissed off that I always misspell embarrassed) and I feel... stupid. I should be beyond all this shit by now but I'm not.

Number one, I started smoking again. Regularly to too much.

Dirty little habit crept back up on me. Doesn't help that the bar I regulate with my presence sells "filtered cigars" which are nothing but cigarettes in disguise. So obviously the smoking ban didn't help my cause much but, still, I had been quit for quite some time without that law previously in place. I am fully disappointed in myself since this habit reared its ugly head the moment I began working again back at the shop.

Number two, I'm working back at the shop. Regularly to too much.

Dirty second little habit I have. I needed to get a job and there weren't any others to get, really. Not at the pay rate I had there, which isn't anything to jump around about in the first place. But I was rather hoping that, by now, I would have scored myself a "real job" that I could be proud of. Instead, here I am, back at it again. I'm not entirely too saddened by this (a job's a job, right?) but it's not thrilling my pants off either.

Number three, I've been rather abandoned.

I've lost my faithful reader, Gorgeous, who aided in keeping my spirits lifted with his distant loyalty. We didn't have to speak, you know, it was just good to know he was there. Or, rather, our option of speaking was forfeited but I must admit that I absolutely adored having the consolation prize of his eyes scanning my journal for a smile. Where have you gone?

The Boy has all but vanished. I hear tell of him on occasion but haven't actually seen him or spoken to him for nearly a month. Perhaps more. I know he's recently added dart tournaments to his already stupid schedule but he apparently has no desire to speak to me. That or he lost his fingers, along with his ability to text or dial my number, in a tragic road construction accident. Whatever. I'm guessing the real cause is that he's met someone. A nice fat girl who's the marrying type. And already has a kid. He seems to like chicks like that because he knows they will desperately proclaim their need for him on a daily basis.

Have fun with that buddy.

And don't worry about the money you owe me. I'll write that off next year as a charitable donation to a nice set of balls. You are obviously in need...

Mr. X. Oh but what fun we used to have! Oh well. Such instances aren't to be taken too seriously. But I genuinely do miss my friend. Not too sure what your story is lately but I would appreciate a bit more in the way of communication. If you find a moment, do grace me with your voice. For at present, I'm just not sure WHASSA GOIN' ON.

Number three? Four? Four...


All this shazz just has me down. I'm entirely too angry and saddened. I need to find a way to get ME back on top. I was feeling so good for awhile there and now it's all gone down the drain. I need to get my cessation back on. Meaning no more smoking and no more ridiculous boys. I need to seriously pursue a better a better career but still appreciate where I am. I need save up some cash and get away for awhile.

I need to stop worrying about things. Regularly to too much.

I just need to get back to me.

Written at 7:29 p.m.