well, i guess i should start writing something. the one thing that always plagues me about writing in a blog is that I can't imagine I have anything all that interesting to say. Add that to the fact that when i write from the heart, I tend to delete everything upon inspection as I immediately begin to critique myself on what a little pussy I come off sounding like. and then there's the rules of english that I refuse to be a part of. Ending sentences with dangling participles, for one. Someone once said "The only groups which I would want to be a member of are those that would never have me." Well, the only blog I would ever write is one I would never read. So, why do it at all?
Recently, my life basically folded in on itself. 2 years ago, I was a 33 year old, married with a 3 yr old daughter, working at a respectable company, with a house in the suburbs, 2 dogs, 2 cats, a white picket fence (actually) and a fairly positive attitude behind all the sarcasm.
Now, I am 35, divorced, bitter, with an ex-wife and daughter who live about an hour away and a fairly negative attitude behind all the sarcasm. I lost my house, lost my job and have been unemployed for nearly a year now. Moved to the city, now renting an apartment from a friend, living by myself for the first time in my life.
In other words, in 2 short years, my life is no longer my life. Its something else. Completely different. And, who knows, it may turn out to be the best thing to happen to me. I doubt it. But right now, its pretty tough to deal with. Especially the part where my ex-wife sleeps with the co-worker guy who she was 'friends' with while we were together. the one who would make her mix cds with lots of indie rock lovesongs on them for her which I would then make jokes about how ridiculous it was that she wouldn't admit that he was in love with her. Not so happy about that part.
So, I'm tired of being tired. Tired of sleeping more than I'm awake. Tired of filling my days with ridiculous bullshit and letting my creative juices turn sour and accumulate mold. I figure no one will read this but me anyway so its a safe enough haven to talk about my life candidly, and not worry about others I know stumbling upon my deepest personal thoughts. So thats why I'm writing. See you tomorrow.
Recently, my life basically folded in on itself. 2 years ago, I was a 33 year old, married with a 3 yr old daughter, working at a respectable company, with a house in the suburbs, 2 dogs, 2 cats, a white picket fence (actually) and a fairly positive attitude behind all the sarcasm.
Now, I am 35, divorced, bitter, with an ex-wife and daughter who live about an hour away and a fairly negative attitude behind all the sarcasm. I lost my house, lost my job and have been unemployed for nearly a year now. Moved to the city, now renting an apartment from a friend, living by myself for the first time in my life.
In other words, in 2 short years, my life is no longer my life. Its something else. Completely different. And, who knows, it may turn out to be the best thing to happen to me. I doubt it. But right now, its pretty tough to deal with. Especially the part where my ex-wife sleeps with the co-worker guy who she was 'friends' with while we were together. the one who would make her mix cds with lots of indie rock lovesongs on them for her which I would then make jokes about how ridiculous it was that she wouldn't admit that he was in love with her. Not so happy about that part.
So, I'm tired of being tired. Tired of sleeping more than I'm awake. Tired of filling my days with ridiculous bullshit and letting my creative juices turn sour and accumulate mold. I figure no one will read this but me anyway so its a safe enough haven to talk about my life candidly, and not worry about others I know stumbling upon my deepest personal thoughts. So thats why I'm writing. See you tomorrow.