B: Essential balance

A quick one tonight, I think. One of those boring Friday nights where my only agenda is to sit around and mull over how lame life has gotten.

I guess, in my heart of hearts, I didn't really expect to go to Toronto today. Call it a hunch, but I somehow figured that it just wasn't gonna happen, even though all the ducks were in a row for it. It's the end of the week and, after accomplishing virtually nothing this whole time, I wasn't in much of a mood to start being active. In any case, however, I woke up, shaved, and said, "Looks like you're going on a trip today," until it was decided I would not.

So I went out for lunch anyhow, because goddamn I hate lazing around the house all day. So I went on a bit of a journey... ha ha, but here's the thing. Though the weather was comparatively mild and temperate to yeserday's apocalyptic flash blizzard, that meant that all the land was flooded with icy water and slush. And my shoes, well, suck. So they spent the rest of the day sitting face down on a heating vent, the blow-drying equivalent of slow roasting.

It feel like I walk around most of the time like I've got a lot on my mind, and the fact is, I do. In fact, anything that could conceivably be on my mind at any given moment, is, and at times like these, it starts to get heavy. So I walk around like I've got this massive burden on my shoulders. I hate that I'm now the guy who hasn't got an internship yet at this point. Frankly, my already-not-so-healthy opinion of myself has taken a hit because of that. Because I know it's primarily my own doing, but also I've been dicked around all month by Home Workshop, where I'd still like to work, but which was rather misleading in its initial call for interns. And another place -- a daily free commuter paper which shall remain nameless -- that got back to Amanda in a timely and friendly manner, doesn't seem to have acknowledged my e-mail at all.

When the topic was broached over lunch-ish meeting on Thursday, when we got to the details of my failure (thus far,) I began to get that old feeling of nausea. That certainly don't make me seem so sympathetic. It's here that the blog seems to slip a bit into pathos; and while I ought to be relaxed and at ease for the moment, man, reading week has proven to be too little too late for me, as I plummet further and further from rationality and sanity. I'm back at my old "Nobody reads this, time to really bitch about everything." Because since nobody's reading, who's going to complain? (Okay, so the hit counter suggests somebody's reading, I'm skeptical.)

There ain't going to be much positivity in my life in the near future, I don't think.

Granted, my natural state ain't supposed to be sunshine, but I can only withstand so much before the ole psyche buckles and I become... well.... this. Lonely guy on the road to nowheres.

I can't articulate it, so maybe the frame's been properly drawn by my unfocussed, disjointed, paranoid, self-loathesome rant. I don't like where I'm heading.

Maybe tomorrow night I'll have something going on so that I can -- at least for that moment -- forget this nonsense.

Keep on rockin'
Scott.