The Coin Star change machine was hella noisy at the grocery store today. But rent had to come out of last Friday’s paycheck, and after some other bills I was down to less than $7.00 in my account today. The plastic teddy bear above, which formally housed animal crackers, had been my coin receptacle for about the past two years. I poured all of it in the Coin Star and it was a little over $140.00. The grocery store customer service took its cut and gave me just over $120.00 in cash. It was immediate relief and a temporary reprieve to my financial stress and worry. It’s some groceries this week and a little gas for the car. Maybe a badly needed haircut too, but I doubt it.
Walking out of the grocery store, high on my petty windfall, I briefly thought of Amanda and the few other girls who wanted to spend their lives with me. Then I came home and masturbated to some Nicole Aniston porn.
Ever feel like you don’t matter? I’m invisible to Melissa. I’m forgettable to Meaghan. I’m alone every single holiday. The Melissa disaster last night sucked. She basically kicked me out of there. Fuck her. I don’t need the humiliation anymore.
But another sad holiday alone in this apartment. Holidays suck all alone. I think of all my friends with their wives, homes and decent lives. Getting drunk just gets me in trouble. Tawnel called me last night – what a fucking loser. She called my cell and home number, but didn’t leave a message. She put some pics on her FB page. Just disgusts me to think that I fucked that. I got Kira’s phone number last night. She has mine too. She’s a little big, but I would love to bang her for some reason. Maybe she’ll drunk dial me. I wouldn’t mind.
I’m making the choice not to suck at life anymore.
But this loneliness, and isolation, and the change of seasons, and the dust bunnies under the TV stand, and these eye glasses that keep sliding down my oily nose . . . all of it. It’s too much to take on my current heavy dose of boredom and empty checking account. I’ll drink this Sleepytime tea, maybe two cups, followed by a dose of Walgreen’s brand Nyquil because I stayed in bed ’til 2PM today. No reason to wake-up, which is why Lina would be such a welcome return to my life. She always smelled like fabric softener and her perspiration during sex smelled like stronger fabric softener.
I’ll turn the heat on before I go to bed and get the first whiff of warm for the year. That burnt smell spat out by a dormant furnace. Today was admittedly tough. Rarely do I admit to myself how depressing a few of the day’s hours have been. It used to be all days and all hours at its worst. I used to down Nyquil after a night of solitary drinking, the idea being that it would keep me asleep so I wouldn’t be bothered with the hassle of waking up intermittently to piss. I wet the bed once.
I don’t feel like much of a writer and I haven’t in a long time. I don’t feel like much of anything to anyone either. I am much better these days at choosing my thoughts – recognizing the harmful ones and throwing them away before they take root, like a weed in concrete. I’ve been living on a credit card and a lot of fucking prayer lately. I put the last of my checking account in my gas tank, and now I’m running up my credit card balance ’til pay day. The real toll of all this is that it makes me feel so exhausted and worn down. To live a struggle like this all alone and have no one along for the ride. The driver seat of my car is worn, but the passenger seat is pristine. Being happy and exhausted would not be that bad, I imagine. Being exhausted and in love would not be that bad, I imagine.
I am thankful for what I do have, but I’ll be hungry at work tomorrow. I’ll smell other peoples’ lunches and see their carry-out sandwiches. They will seem like wealthy people to me just because of that. Yesterday, I crept around the office in my dirty pants hoping for some treats or sweets in the break room. There were none.
Somehow, someway, I have a little over $100.00 more in my checking account than I thought I had, with no pending transactions or checks. I am tempted to take a trip to Half-Price books to buy a book or a journal or something…some tiny luxury to lift my spirits a little. But on the other fuckin’ hand, I have a utility bill that is starting to rival my credit card balance, so I should save it for that.
Being perpetually low on money has taught me that I don’t have to eat every time I feel hungry. I can drink water or brew some of my cheap, unfair trade coffee to curb my appetite. But I don’t have to eat every time I feel hungry. There are worse things that I’ve been through…far worse things than feeling hungry. I have coffee, oatmeal and eggs and that’s fine for now. Fuck eating.
I want to look back on this part of my life and think…know that it was all worth it. That it was all leading to somewhere great for me. It doesn’t make any sense to me now, but I hope it will some fuckin’ day. God must be putting me through this for some reason.
It’s the beginning of the month, so I can afford things – things like a full tank of gas, Chipotle, a couple of movie rentals from iTunes, groceries. It won’t last long, though. I ate a big-ass burrito and a half-pint of ice cream today, but I feel good even though I only slept for a couple hours last night. But I am tired and my stomach is full.
If Carrie at work was single, I’d probably ask her out and end-up banging her. She has athletic legs and bouncy boobs. She’s at least someone to talk to these days.
I picked up some Nyquil today, and I’m going to drink some and get a badly needed eight hours tonight. I am so tired that I probably won’t even masturbate to Nicole Aniston tonight.
I said I “probably” won’t…
she cuts my hair
I want a live-in girlfriend. I want to be lying in bed and hear her in the kitchen making noise. I want to hear her laughing in the bathroom when she’s putting on her makeup. I want a good night’s sleep.
I dreamed last night that Kelley (she cuts my hair) was an escort and I was her client. She was naked, standing up and putting on her wrist watch after we had just had sex. I was pretty disappointed when I woke up because it wasn’t true.
The depression hasn’t been too bad lately. It was here a little tonight. I really miss the excitement of getting ready for a date on the weekend. But at times I really feel like I’m having a nervous breakdown. I’m not fucking sleeping, and the financial stress of my life is fucking really wearing on me. My damn paychecks do a quick disappearing act from bills. I’d like to have some disposable income again. I’m having a nervous breakdown.
I had the worst, most hopeless and depressing feeling today when I was sitting in my car before work. I was in the parking ramp, and it hit me so hard how unfulfilled my life is right now. I am completely unhappy in my job, not to mention constantly poor. And, I am completely without a prospect of a relationship. I dread the weekends because I’ll be lonely and I won’t even talk to anyone.
It made me miss the attention of Nita. For a few weeks it was nice to be on someone’s mind, and to hear an attractive woman say really nice things to me. But she has friends here and an active social life, so it’s doubtful I’m on her mind anymore. I was tempted to text her.
That feeling in my car this morning was so scary and almost paralyzing. I couldn’t believe that my life turned out this way. I have no one to share my life with and that’s the thing I need most right now. I felt so scared this morning in my car because it felt like it has no chance of changing. I am tired of these really dark days – they’re getting scary. The one this morning felt like suicide.
But then I was watching Jimmy Fallon clips on YouTube and came across the one below. I never even liked the song before, but I love this rendition. Here I stand and here I’ll stay. Let the storm rage on…the cold never bothered me anyway, bitches.
At night is when I think about killing myself…brief thoughts. I think about my life now, and the times my mom hit me when I was little. Fierce hitting that comes from being mad about something else. I want to escape all that shit and die so that those fuckin’ thoughts die too. No more self-disappointment. Death cures.
Not being loved by someone and failing your potential makes you think like this. I’m going to buy some new work clothes tomorrow. Maybe it’ll make me feel better. The cardio is working. The skin underneath my chin is tighter. See, for a minute there, I didn’t think about being better off dead.
Just got home from home…where I grew up. Got to see my core group of friends from high school, was weird but fun. It put things into perspective for me. Seeing all the people I went to high school with with their families and full-on adulthood. Made me feel pathetic for being so broke and insecure over a failed relationship.
I need to like myself more. I need to really believe that I deserve good things. That I deserve to be loved by someone. I was so surprised when girls think about me – I should expect that.
I drove around my hometown. Past my old house and neighborhood. Went to the Northern tennis courts where I spent all my summers. I deserve love and happiness. I will have all those things. I deserve someone better. I will succeed. I need to live life more.