Color Me Tragic

     

I don't make decisions, decisions make me. 

I am practically incapable of making any decisions in my life, and instead I permit life to sort of just unravel and occur around me and then I figure out how to fit myself in to it. 

I don't know what in the fucking hell is wrong with me.

I don't act, I react.

I don't think I've ever been in a situation where my actions weren't just my reactions to given circumstances that happen to present themselves.

I don't think ahead. I don't plan ahead. Shit, I don't even make a lunch for myself in the morning before I go to work because it doesn't occur to me that I'm going to be hungry in five hours. 

I've never planned for the future because I've been too busy surviving in the present.

I wouldn't know what it means to be happy if it stood up and punched me in the face. I understand what it means to be miserable and lonely and sad and depressed. Happy? I don't know if I know what that feels like. Which doesn't mean I haven't tried, I'm just so used to the other feelings and have become so comfortable and familiar with them over the past thirty years I've been on this earth that to be happy would be a push out of my comfort zone.

How does one even attain happiness? How does one even try to attain it? What does it even mean?

Was it that giggly, light-headed feeling I once had? Was happiness that time that I couldn't stop smiling? And that time that I wanted to just... melt? Was that happiness? And if so, how do I ever get that back?

You once called me "tragic". I don't doubt there's truth in that.

I just don't know any other way to be.

In other news... Life's got me down. Wait. That's not news.

     

I had the best intentions for today today. I was going to get up early, have a cup of coffee, go to the gym, maybe do some window shopping...

And the day started out alright. I was up at 9:00am (okay, maybe more like 9:30), and I was all motivated to start my day. I made a cup of coffee, toasted an English muffin, and then I sat down to enjoy my breakfast. I wisely decided that while I was consuming said breakfast it would be a great opportunity to do some apartment searching. And maybe some job searching. 

And then fast forward two hours and I found myself still job searching and apartment searching and nowhere closer to getting out of the house and to the gym. And I realize that I'm still wearing the same skirt I've been wearing every day for a week (did I sleep in it last night?). I'm unshowered. There's laundry to do (as evident by the two-sizes too big, borderline granny-panties I'm wearing). And I have absolutely no desire nor motivation to leave the house today. Again. What's the point? I have nowhere to go.

I've become aggravated by all the searching taking place in my life right now. Job searching, apartment searching (soul-searching). I mean, which should come first? The new place to live or the new job? On one hand, I'm dead broke and could really use some income. Pronto. On the other hand, I don't really want to get a waitressing job in Alexandria only to find myself moving to Arlington. Or what if I get a job in Arlington or Falls Church or DC and end up in Fairfax or Vienna? 

However, I still have the $300 car payment ever month and the $90 car insurance payment. And why am I paying $90 a month for car insurance anyways? I've never been in an accident, I don't have any tickets... Now that I think about it, my insurance company probably still thinks I live where I lived three years ago when I bought the car. And they probably still think I'm driving 40 miles to work every day. They probably don't know that I'm unemployed and that I hardly drive at all anymore. I should probably look into that... If only I could remember who my carrier is...

Thank god I had my undergrad student loans deferred (again) until November. You know, 'cause I'm unemployed. Lord knows how much extra interest I've racked up over the years. I have no idea what the status of my grad school loans are. I can't even remember who my lender is anymore since that seems to change every month. And I have no idea what address that correspondence goes to.

I have unanswered emails from weeks ago. I have unanswered text messages and unchecked voice mails. "What's the point?" I wonder. I have no news to share with anyone. I'm no more closer to accomplishing anything than I was two months ago. The only difference in my life is my zip code, and that's not really news nor is it unexpected. "Oh, you moved? Again?" Yeah, pretty much.

This morning I received an email from my dad (I can't remember the last time I spoke to him. Or saw him) informing me that he's in the last steps of selling his house. The house I grew up in. The house he built. My eyes stung a bit when I first read that, but then I thought, "Eh. I haven't lived in that house for 15 years." Plus, it's not like I had any intention of stepping foot in it again anyways. Whatever. I guess if his fiance is happy he's selling the house he lived in with his first two wives and their children, then by all means, make the bitch woman happy. I should probably give Twin a call though and see how she's taking the news. Maybe later.

So what now? I have resumes to be rewritten, cover letters I need to write, references I need to dig up... A comfortable bed and satellite TV I need to resist. *Sigh* This is my life. If you could call it that.

On a positive note, I recovered from PMS just in time to have a really good weekend. If I can find the motivation, maybe I'll tell you all about it later. I have a very funny story that involves long, gnarly hair and an unidentified creepy crawly. We'll see how the day goes.