Well, that Catholic boy broke up with me for not being Catholic. At first I was hurt by his decision because I felt it was really... lame. I don't know how else to explain it. I couldn't believe religion got between us, but at the same time I'm not surprised.
But you know me, I move on fast. I'm already seeing someone else. He often describes himself as a patient and sarcastic man. (I would agree.) He is extremely affectionate and has a great sense of humour. He's good with his hands, he likes to cook, and he always folds his laundry. I'm really digging this guy!
Our tastes in music and movies align nicely. He reads interesting books. I enjoy the company of his various friends. We play board games and there's a healthy competition between us. He thinks we're on the same page. (I think so too.)
We've talked about serious stuff, but we talk about a lot of silly stuff. I like to ask him questions you might hear on The Newlywed Game. Would you rather be able to fly, or breathe under water? (He picked gills and I picked wings.) Which animal would you like to be able to morph into? (He picked goat and I picked cat.) What kind of superpower would you most like to have? (I never actually asked him that question, but I plan on it.)
You can tell a lot about a person by asking them those types of questions. They're open ended and can lead to finding out so much more about a person than the typical: tell me about blank... how do you feel about blank....
I'm very stoked on this new relationship. I don't know where it will go or how long it will last, but I have to say that I just don't care. I'm so happy right where I am. I'm not looking for anything more or anything less. I'm enjoying the summer and it's going to be a good summer!
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
My Depressing Life
Actually my life is pretty awesome! I'm feeling melodramatic this morning. I received word yesterday that the roommate I had found to move in with me was declined. Nobody seems to know why. I'm disappointed about this.
Back to the drawing board I guess. I tweaked and re-posted my ad then got to work sending out emails to people. I'm really hoping to find someone to live with very soon. This is getting ridiculous. I can't afford to live here alone for 5 more months. Finding a sublet may be easier, but I don't want to go through that hassle either. I like living here and I don't want to leave if I don't have to.
And in other news... The 36 year old diabetic practicing Catholic man with ADHD - who has a full time job and is also in the process of getting his masters degree - is having doubts about what kind of future relationship we could ever have together since I am Atheist.
Religion just has to ruin everything, doesn't it? His name is Ryan and he if fucking magical! I love spending time with him. He's intellectual, sarcastic, funny, passionate... he's this all around awesome guy, except he loves God and I don't! That is the one thing standing in our way.
I'm unsure if I'm upset about this or not.
In an effort to determine what should be done I called the only practicing Christian male I know and asked his opinion. He could see where I am coming from because he once dated an Atheist girl. He essentially told me it wasn't likely to work between us. He's engaged to a very good friend of mine and I asked if he would be getting married if my friend was Atheist. He flat out said no, not at all.
What attracted him to her was the fact that they both believe in the same thing and that was really important to him. They have a common goal and together they work towards it everyday.
Ryan and I believe in a lot of the same things; for example, sustainable living, pursuit of knowledge, community involvement, and justice. When it comes to religion though, we are on literally opposite ends of the spectrum. I guess it's really not enough. Neither of us are willing to compromise on this one subject. We are doomed to fail.
I wouldn't be so depressed about Ryan if I could find a damn roommate! Gah!
Back to the drawing board I guess. I tweaked and re-posted my ad then got to work sending out emails to people. I'm really hoping to find someone to live with very soon. This is getting ridiculous. I can't afford to live here alone for 5 more months. Finding a sublet may be easier, but I don't want to go through that hassle either. I like living here and I don't want to leave if I don't have to.
And in other news... The 36 year old diabetic practicing Catholic man with ADHD - who has a full time job and is also in the process of getting his masters degree - is having doubts about what kind of future relationship we could ever have together since I am Atheist.
Religion just has to ruin everything, doesn't it? His name is Ryan and he if fucking magical! I love spending time with him. He's intellectual, sarcastic, funny, passionate... he's this all around awesome guy, except he loves God and I don't! That is the one thing standing in our way.
I'm unsure if I'm upset about this or not.
In an effort to determine what should be done I called the only practicing Christian male I know and asked his opinion. He could see where I am coming from because he once dated an Atheist girl. He essentially told me it wasn't likely to work between us. He's engaged to a very good friend of mine and I asked if he would be getting married if my friend was Atheist. He flat out said no, not at all.
What attracted him to her was the fact that they both believe in the same thing and that was really important to him. They have a common goal and together they work towards it everyday.
Ryan and I believe in a lot of the same things; for example, sustainable living, pursuit of knowledge, community involvement, and justice. When it comes to religion though, we are on literally opposite ends of the spectrum. I guess it's really not enough. Neither of us are willing to compromise on this one subject. We are doomed to fail.
I wouldn't be so depressed about Ryan if I could find a damn roommate! Gah!
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Roommate Received!
Ask and you shall receive. I have not one, but TWO roommates now! Excellent!
Don is a computer programmer downtown. He has one cat, female, and is a lover of board games. In fact, he enjoy having friends over for a board game night. When I heard that, I was sold. I couldn't care less about anything else really. He's bringing a treadmill. He doesn't cook. He eats a lot of microwave meals.
He seems like a pretty cool guy. Very chill, easy-going. I doubt we'll see each other very often since he works days and I usually work evenings. It will be nice having someone in the house with my cats while I'm out. I feel like I'm neglecting them since they sleep during the day and play at night when I'm gone.
I met Don on easyroommatefinder I think the site is called. I messaged him, asking if he was interested in my room and he was. He's just going through the paperwork now to get approved and get his name on the lease.
The second roommate is known to me. Andrew Cwiok! A little birdie tipped him off I was looking for a roommate. I told him how Don already secured the big room, but that there was a smaller room for rent he could have if he was interested. He said he was, so now my rent is in thirds! Amazing!
Andrew has yet to view the apartment and fill out necessary paperwork. Perhaps it will fall through, but he seemed serious.
What I like about this situation is that my lease is up in 6 months. If, for whatever reason, the two new roommates thing isn't working, there is that escape option. It's going to take a couple months to settle into the new routine and adapt to the changes. By that time we'll really know if it's going to work out or not in the long term.
If everything seems to be getting along great, we'll sign up for another year lease.
Don is a computer programmer downtown. He has one cat, female, and is a lover of board games. In fact, he enjoy having friends over for a board game night. When I heard that, I was sold. I couldn't care less about anything else really. He's bringing a treadmill. He doesn't cook. He eats a lot of microwave meals.
He seems like a pretty cool guy. Very chill, easy-going. I doubt we'll see each other very often since he works days and I usually work evenings. It will be nice having someone in the house with my cats while I'm out. I feel like I'm neglecting them since they sleep during the day and play at night when I'm gone.
I met Don on easyroommatefinder I think the site is called. I messaged him, asking if he was interested in my room and he was. He's just going through the paperwork now to get approved and get his name on the lease.
The second roommate is known to me. Andrew Cwiok! A little birdie tipped him off I was looking for a roommate. I told him how Don already secured the big room, but that there was a smaller room for rent he could have if he was interested. He said he was, so now my rent is in thirds! Amazing!
Andrew has yet to view the apartment and fill out necessary paperwork. Perhaps it will fall through, but he seemed serious.
What I like about this situation is that my lease is up in 6 months. If, for whatever reason, the two new roommates thing isn't working, there is that escape option. It's going to take a couple months to settle into the new routine and adapt to the changes. By that time we'll really know if it's going to work out or not in the long term.
If everything seems to be getting along great, we'll sign up for another year lease.
Friday, May 7, 2010
Roommate Wanted
I have emailed and called over dozens of people by now. NOBODY has gotten back to me. And the small, handful of people who did reply to my first message or call, STILL didn't get back to me. They just bail and don't say a word. I don't understand how people can be so rude.
I've set up 4 appointments to have people view the room. One person emailed to cancel. The rest just didn't show up and didn't bother to get a hold of me. This is so incredibly frustrating.
Never in a million years did I think it would be so difficult to find a roommate! I've had a couple of 50 year old men interested in the room. I'm desperate, but not THAT desperate! I'd much rather live with someone who's under 40 years of age.
This whole process has been terribly frustrating and annoying. I can't afford to live here for 6 more months all alone. I absolutely need a roommate by June 1 or bad things are going to happen.
I've set up 4 appointments to have people view the room. One person emailed to cancel. The rest just didn't show up and didn't bother to get a hold of me. This is so incredibly frustrating.
Never in a million years did I think it would be so difficult to find a roommate! I've had a couple of 50 year old men interested in the room. I'm desperate, but not THAT desperate! I'd much rather live with someone who's under 40 years of age.
This whole process has been terribly frustrating and annoying. I can't afford to live here for 6 more months all alone. I absolutely need a roommate by June 1 or bad things are going to happen.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Attitude
I wrote a blog earlier today that I think really emphasized my poor attitude. It got me thinking and I started to write this story. I'm going to submit it to my creative writing course. Let me know what you think.
Lemons
Devon Andrews had a vision in his mind of what his life was supposed to be like: right now, this wasn’t it. He was turning 25 soon. He should have a secure job by now, a house, a car... but he didn’t have those things and his bank account was empty. He had ten dollars to his name and he was about to spend it on a nice cold beer before going home to pack his things before his landlord evicted him.
He sat down at the empty bar and slapped the bill on the counter. His eyes adjusted to the dark pub. The barkeep gave him his beer and change. Devon didn’t tip. He took his first sip slowly, savouring the dark ale’s full bodied flavour. He let it rest under his tongue for a moment before swallowing. If he could only afford one beer, he was going to make it last.
A wrinkly, shrivelled up man, came in and hobbled over to the bar. He rested his little cane against the counter and mounted the bar stool beside Devon unhurriedly.
“Whiskey sour,” he barked, whistling his S’s. “And keep ‘em coming!”
They were the only two patrons in the bar. Devon could smell the old man’s stale breath. He edged over slightly, attempting to create some distance between them. The barkeep handed the old man his drink order and went back to restocking the refrigerator.
“What’s your name sonny boy?” the old man asked, whistling his S’s yet again.
“Devon,” he answered flatly, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
“My sister-in-law had a silly old cat she named Devon,” the old man informed him. “It’s dead now.”
That whistle was starting to get on Devon’s nerves. He wasn’t here to make friends. He wasn’t here to talk about his life, or listen about anyone else’s for that matter. He just wanted to drink his beer in peace. And once he’d emptied his glass, he was going to go home to call his brother to ask if he could move in with him and his wife.
“Why are you nursing that beer?” the old man asked, leaning closer, infringing on Devon’s personal space. “Are you some sort of sissy boy?” The old man let out a loud wheezing laugh as Devon flinched in pain. The whistling alliteration made his ears ring.
When Devon didn’t respond, the old man kept talking.
“Well, Devon, I just have to say that I’ve been living in this here town for eighty-three years and I’ve been coming to this bar for sixty-eight of ‘em! I smoke cigars and I drink whiskey everyday and look at me,” he pounded on his chest, “healthy as a God damn horse!”
Devon rolled his eyes and took another slow sip of his drink.
“You wanna know why?”
“Not really,” Devon shook his head no.
“Well, I’ll tell you why, then,” the old man said obliviously. “Lemons! I eat lemons every single day. I love lemons. You want to know why I always order a whiskey sour? Because its got the lemons in it, you see? Lemons make you live longer!” he boasted proudly.
“I guess I’m going to die young. I don’t eat lemons. Did you read that in a medical journal or something?” Devon asked, trying to be polite. It was quite obvious this old man wasn’t going away any time soon. He may as well humour him.
The old man slipped his dentures out and rested them directly on the bar. Devon curled away in disgust.
“When I eat the lemons my face puckers up like this here, you see?” The old man sucked his cheeks in and made his eyes roll to the back of his head. “They’re so sour, but they’re like the fountain of youth. I eat probably a dozen lemons a day.”
The barkeep poked his head up from behind the counter and noticed the slobbery dentures sitting there.
“Joe, put your teeth back in your mouth,” he sighed and reached for his rag. Joe complied without hesitation and the barkeep wiped up the drool and went back to restocking.
“Sorry about my teeth, Timothy. I’ll tell you one thing though,” Joe continued, wiping his hands on his lap, “We use lemons for everything; cooking, cleaning, even for medicinal purposes. It’s a super food! We don’t even know where the lemon originates from.”
“I’m pretty sure the first lemons came from Asia,” Devon interjected. He was getting a headache.
Joe gulped down the rest of his drink and slammed the empty glass on the counter, signalling Timothy to make him another.
“Oh! Is that so?” Joe asked mockingly, his voice level rising, “Are you some sort of scholar?” He let out another loud wheezy laugh.
Devon winced and rubbed his temples. Why do so many words in the English language have the letter S in them, he thought, and took another swig.
“Well, then? Are you?” asked Joe, seriously.
Devon thought the question was rhetoric. “I’m not a scholar. I’m not anything right now.”
“Don’t you got a job somewhere?” Joe probed.
“No, I got fired two months ago and haven’t been able to find another job,” Devon replied.
“If you don’t got a job, I guess you don’t got any lady friends either. Them hookers will only sleep with you if you got the money to pay. But, go on, I’m listening,” Joe nodded knowingly before downing the rest of his drink. Timothy handed him another.
“My landlord’s getting upset about the rent being overdue, and my other bills are piling up,” Devon explained. “I’m going to call my brother tonight to see if I can move in with him. His wife just had a baby. Maybe I can babysit my nephew or something in exchange for room and board.”
Joe eyed Devon silently for a moment. He finished his whiskey sour, belched, and wiped his mouth. Devon pursed his lips, waiting for the old man’s sage advice that would inevitably come. Perhaps he’d tell him to keep his chin up and try, try, try again. Maybe he’d give him a new lead on a potential job prospect. Devon finished off his drink. Hopefully he’d feel sorry for him and at least buy him another beer.
“Sounds to me like you need more lemons in your life!” Joe wheezed uproariously, slapping his thigh with delight. “Timothy!” he barked, “Two more whiskey sours!”
Devon glared at him, not amused.
“I’m serious!” Joe whistled. “Lemons cleanse the mind and body and make everything better. I’ll tell you one thing though; if you ‘corporate lemons into your daily routine you will notice a sing-finny-cant change in your life!
“Don’t you mean significant,” Devon corrected emphatically.
Timothy slid two fresh drinks across the counter and Joe nudged one of the glasses in Devon’s direction.
“You sure you ain’t a scholar? Drink this here whiskey sour. It will make you feel better. When life gives you lemons, you make yourself some whiskey sours. Don’t you forget it!”
Joe held his drink high and clinked glasses with Devon.
“To lemons!” he toasted and they both took a large gulp.
Devon smacked his lips and laughed.
“Tastes good, don’t it?” asked Joe, smiling ear to ear. “Pretty soon, you’ll love lemons just as much as me.”
For the first time since Joe sat down, Devon didn’t cringe at the sound of the old man’s whistling S’s. The two finished their drinks and Joe threw a couple of crumpled up bills on the counter.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Timothy. Keep the change.”
“Wait, where are you going?” Devon asked, standing up.
“I need to stock up on lemons before all the grocery stores close,” replied Joe, steadying himself with his cane as he slid off the bar stool. Devon sat back down and watched Joe gradually make it towards the exit.
“You remember what I taught you about lemons, you hear me?” Joe shouted from across the pub before stepping outside.
Devon waved goodbye and chuckled to himself. Lemons. What a crazy old man!
“Maybe I should go get some lemons too,” Devon joked to Timothy. “Apparently they’re going to save my life.”
Timothy grinned. “I’m glad you were here. Normally it’s me that has to sit here and listen to him go on and on about that crap. What’ll it be? This one’s on the house. I owe you.”
A strange feeling washed over Devon. He didn’t think what Joe had to say was complete nonsense. Sure, he was annoying at first, but he had definitely made an impression. Devon had walked into this lonely pub ready to give up. Joe had walked in never feeling better. Maybe it was the power of the lemon after all?
“You’re going to hate me for this,” Devon started slowly, a smile spreading across his face, “But I think I’d like to have another whiskey sour!”
The End. Haha. Moral of the story: attitude is everything!
Lemons
Devon Andrews had a vision in his mind of what his life was supposed to be like: right now, this wasn’t it. He was turning 25 soon. He should have a secure job by now, a house, a car... but he didn’t have those things and his bank account was empty. He had ten dollars to his name and he was about to spend it on a nice cold beer before going home to pack his things before his landlord evicted him.
He sat down at the empty bar and slapped the bill on the counter. His eyes adjusted to the dark pub. The barkeep gave him his beer and change. Devon didn’t tip. He took his first sip slowly, savouring the dark ale’s full bodied flavour. He let it rest under his tongue for a moment before swallowing. If he could only afford one beer, he was going to make it last.
A wrinkly, shrivelled up man, came in and hobbled over to the bar. He rested his little cane against the counter and mounted the bar stool beside Devon unhurriedly.
“Whiskey sour,” he barked, whistling his S’s. “And keep ‘em coming!”
They were the only two patrons in the bar. Devon could smell the old man’s stale breath. He edged over slightly, attempting to create some distance between them. The barkeep handed the old man his drink order and went back to restocking the refrigerator.
“What’s your name sonny boy?” the old man asked, whistling his S’s yet again.
“Devon,” he answered flatly, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
“My sister-in-law had a silly old cat she named Devon,” the old man informed him. “It’s dead now.”
That whistle was starting to get on Devon’s nerves. He wasn’t here to make friends. He wasn’t here to talk about his life, or listen about anyone else’s for that matter. He just wanted to drink his beer in peace. And once he’d emptied his glass, he was going to go home to call his brother to ask if he could move in with him and his wife.
“Why are you nursing that beer?” the old man asked, leaning closer, infringing on Devon’s personal space. “Are you some sort of sissy boy?” The old man let out a loud wheezing laugh as Devon flinched in pain. The whistling alliteration made his ears ring.
When Devon didn’t respond, the old man kept talking.
“Well, Devon, I just have to say that I’ve been living in this here town for eighty-three years and I’ve been coming to this bar for sixty-eight of ‘em! I smoke cigars and I drink whiskey everyday and look at me,” he pounded on his chest, “healthy as a God damn horse!”
Devon rolled his eyes and took another slow sip of his drink.
“You wanna know why?”
“Not really,” Devon shook his head no.
“Well, I’ll tell you why, then,” the old man said obliviously. “Lemons! I eat lemons every single day. I love lemons. You want to know why I always order a whiskey sour? Because its got the lemons in it, you see? Lemons make you live longer!” he boasted proudly.
“I guess I’m going to die young. I don’t eat lemons. Did you read that in a medical journal or something?” Devon asked, trying to be polite. It was quite obvious this old man wasn’t going away any time soon. He may as well humour him.
The old man slipped his dentures out and rested them directly on the bar. Devon curled away in disgust.
“When I eat the lemons my face puckers up like this here, you see?” The old man sucked his cheeks in and made his eyes roll to the back of his head. “They’re so sour, but they’re like the fountain of youth. I eat probably a dozen lemons a day.”
The barkeep poked his head up from behind the counter and noticed the slobbery dentures sitting there.
“Joe, put your teeth back in your mouth,” he sighed and reached for his rag. Joe complied without hesitation and the barkeep wiped up the drool and went back to restocking.
“Sorry about my teeth, Timothy. I’ll tell you one thing though,” Joe continued, wiping his hands on his lap, “We use lemons for everything; cooking, cleaning, even for medicinal purposes. It’s a super food! We don’t even know where the lemon originates from.”
“I’m pretty sure the first lemons came from Asia,” Devon interjected. He was getting a headache.
Joe gulped down the rest of his drink and slammed the empty glass on the counter, signalling Timothy to make him another.
“Oh! Is that so?” Joe asked mockingly, his voice level rising, “Are you some sort of scholar?” He let out another loud wheezy laugh.
Devon winced and rubbed his temples. Why do so many words in the English language have the letter S in them, he thought, and took another swig.
“Well, then? Are you?” asked Joe, seriously.
Devon thought the question was rhetoric. “I’m not a scholar. I’m not anything right now.”
“Don’t you got a job somewhere?” Joe probed.
“No, I got fired two months ago and haven’t been able to find another job,” Devon replied.
“If you don’t got a job, I guess you don’t got any lady friends either. Them hookers will only sleep with you if you got the money to pay. But, go on, I’m listening,” Joe nodded knowingly before downing the rest of his drink. Timothy handed him another.
“My landlord’s getting upset about the rent being overdue, and my other bills are piling up,” Devon explained. “I’m going to call my brother tonight to see if I can move in with him. His wife just had a baby. Maybe I can babysit my nephew or something in exchange for room and board.”
Joe eyed Devon silently for a moment. He finished his whiskey sour, belched, and wiped his mouth. Devon pursed his lips, waiting for the old man’s sage advice that would inevitably come. Perhaps he’d tell him to keep his chin up and try, try, try again. Maybe he’d give him a new lead on a potential job prospect. Devon finished off his drink. Hopefully he’d feel sorry for him and at least buy him another beer.
“Sounds to me like you need more lemons in your life!” Joe wheezed uproariously, slapping his thigh with delight. “Timothy!” he barked, “Two more whiskey sours!”
Devon glared at him, not amused.
“I’m serious!” Joe whistled. “Lemons cleanse the mind and body and make everything better. I’ll tell you one thing though; if you ‘corporate lemons into your daily routine you will notice a sing-finny-cant change in your life!
“Don’t you mean significant,” Devon corrected emphatically.
Timothy slid two fresh drinks across the counter and Joe nudged one of the glasses in Devon’s direction.
“You sure you ain’t a scholar? Drink this here whiskey sour. It will make you feel better. When life gives you lemons, you make yourself some whiskey sours. Don’t you forget it!”
Joe held his drink high and clinked glasses with Devon.
“To lemons!” he toasted and they both took a large gulp.
Devon smacked his lips and laughed.
“Tastes good, don’t it?” asked Joe, smiling ear to ear. “Pretty soon, you’ll love lemons just as much as me.”
For the first time since Joe sat down, Devon didn’t cringe at the sound of the old man’s whistling S’s. The two finished their drinks and Joe threw a couple of crumpled up bills on the counter.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Timothy. Keep the change.”
“Wait, where are you going?” Devon asked, standing up.
“I need to stock up on lemons before all the grocery stores close,” replied Joe, steadying himself with his cane as he slid off the bar stool. Devon sat back down and watched Joe gradually make it towards the exit.
“You remember what I taught you about lemons, you hear me?” Joe shouted from across the pub before stepping outside.
Devon waved goodbye and chuckled to himself. Lemons. What a crazy old man!
“Maybe I should go get some lemons too,” Devon joked to Timothy. “Apparently they’re going to save my life.”
Timothy grinned. “I’m glad you were here. Normally it’s me that has to sit here and listen to him go on and on about that crap. What’ll it be? This one’s on the house. I owe you.”
A strange feeling washed over Devon. He didn’t think what Joe had to say was complete nonsense. Sure, he was annoying at first, but he had definitely made an impression. Devon had walked into this lonely pub ready to give up. Joe had walked in never feeling better. Maybe it was the power of the lemon after all?
“You’re going to hate me for this,” Devon started slowly, a smile spreading across his face, “But I think I’d like to have another whiskey sour!”
The End. Haha. Moral of the story: attitude is everything!
Home Alone
I live alone right now. It's just me here plus my three cats. Being all by yourself all the time really takes it's toll on your brain. I might even go as far as to say that I think I'm going crazy some days.
I usually start work at 3 in the afternoon. That gives me time to sleep in, run errands during the day, or do some chores around the apartment. The problem is that I don't. I wake up early because my cats jump up on the bed and start crawling around, wrestling with each other. They want food; they want to be played with.
I eventually get up. Maybe work out for a bit. Eat something. It will be a while before I actually shower and don't think for a minute that I'm going to touch those dirty dishes. I don't leave the apartment for the whole day, even if it's nice outside. I hang around in my pajamas, wishing someone would text me, or try to chat with me on Facebook.
I wander around the house, bored. Circling. Pacing. All my friends are at work. By the time they come home from work, I'll have barely started my shift. And because I'm working a late shift, everyone who works during the day eventually has to leave. I'm then left all alone at work too.
It seems I spend a lot of time in isolation. I honestly feel disconnected. I spend hours upon hours of time on the internet and it's fruitless. There's only so many fucked up searches you can search and there's only so many mindless games you can play.
I'm really just not motivated to do anything at all because what's the point?
Human... contact... ahhhhhh!!!
I usually start work at 3 in the afternoon. That gives me time to sleep in, run errands during the day, or do some chores around the apartment. The problem is that I don't. I wake up early because my cats jump up on the bed and start crawling around, wrestling with each other. They want food; they want to be played with.
I eventually get up. Maybe work out for a bit. Eat something. It will be a while before I actually shower and don't think for a minute that I'm going to touch those dirty dishes. I don't leave the apartment for the whole day, even if it's nice outside. I hang around in my pajamas, wishing someone would text me, or try to chat with me on Facebook.
I wander around the house, bored. Circling. Pacing. All my friends are at work. By the time they come home from work, I'll have barely started my shift. And because I'm working a late shift, everyone who works during the day eventually has to leave. I'm then left all alone at work too.
It seems I spend a lot of time in isolation. I honestly feel disconnected. I spend hours upon hours of time on the internet and it's fruitless. There's only so many fucked up searches you can search and there's only so many mindless games you can play.
I'm really just not motivated to do anything at all because what's the point?
Human... contact... ahhhhhh!!!
