Friday, September 18, 2015

Here I sit, writing on the paper...

     There's so much going on with me, emotionally and in life. Over the past couple of years, I've been heartbroken twice and constantly financially fist-fucked.

     I've come to grips with all that happened with the Lynn situation. I even figured out that the baby wasn't even mine.
     And I've been hearing about my previous ex having a baby (when she swore there was no one else). That didn't bother me so much as give me that "ah-ha" I needed. I spoke to her briefly, and she gave me the typical liars' catch-phrase "I tried to tell you."
     I'm at the point where I'm dissecting these two bullshit events in my life, and trying to figure out how to avoid future catastrophes. Other than that, I don't know what to do. I'm not a physically vengeful person, but these two are bound to come up in casual conversation from time to time, and I'll tell whomever I can about how awful they are.
     I'm not looking to get into a relationship, but there are a few I like talking to. But I'm keeping it as flirtationships right now.

     From the IRS to job insecurity to car problems, my finances have taken a hit. I can't live in my apartment any more. Plans are in the works to move to Washington, Indiana, with my friend Courtney.
     We need each other right now. No, not 'that' way. She's strictly chickly. But we're close enough that I like to refer to her as "my lesbian lover". I think I might need someone around.
     We'll split bills and rent. My job, even though they fuck up my payroll, really wants to keep me. At least there's security in that department. I'm thinking, this weekend, I could go to Shortney's and see what things of mine would fit.

     My, I guess you'd call it, joie de vivre, is missing. Many people refer to their own joie de vivre as something different. Some call it their groove. Others call it their strut. I call mine my insane swagger.
     My insane swagger has been severely weakened. It's not there. I'm listless. I'm terrified of the world. My brazen grin rarely even makes a cameo appearance. My gallows humor isn't as spontaneous. Something's got to give. Something has to help.

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