Chapter 13: It can only sound that way once

It seems that lately, I've been headed down a one-way street. And I've got no way out, no two ways about it.

But yeah. Puns aside, tonight feels like I'm going in circles (on a one-way street, to mix the metaphor.) Trapped in nowheresville, and no, that's not a cute name for Oakville, it's just my state of mind.

Yeah, I'm a drag. I hate it, but tonight that's how it's going to be. And things were really going quite well for me, until... I'll tell you.

I think I'm finally over my long-lingering throat-cold. I blasted the remnants away with what appears to be an atomic-powered sucret. Felt like a mushroom cloud in my throat. So that appears to have taken care of that.

The house was going to be quiet this weekend. Mom, as per usual, has left us to our own devices. Dad, who would previously have been handling dinner, is at the trailer. Eric, inspired by renewed contact with the old gang, was to go up today. All my ducks were in a row. Mom even took friday off so she could get a headstart on the long weekend, which apparently meant doing our dishes and mopping our floor. Not that I'm complaining, really.

Anyway, I went out and spent a good part of the afternoon catching up with a friend. When I got home, I was about to say bye to Eric when the door opens. "Is anybody home?" a voice calls out; my grandma's. Uh-oh I know what's coming.

So I'm now stuck looking after Xena for the weekend. And while I don't mind the petty cash, I do mind that it wasn't discussed beforehand (not like we had no opportunities the past week.) As I'm sure I've catalogued elsewhere on this blog, she can be supremely... bitchy, in the fullest sense of the word. She's calmed down now, but I'm sure she'll be stirring up plenty of shit tomorrow.

So I sat around and basically did nothing but try to appease the bitch all day thereafter. I feel trapped, and life's getting no better in general. My attempt at job-finding has been half-hearted at best, because I just haven't got the effort in me these days. And my brain is just kinda flattened so I can't eloquate exactly what I'm feeling, but the jist of it is that I'm lonely, I'm bored, I'm frustrated... the usual Williams Cocktail of depression. All the futility of existence is creepin' up on me. And all because I couldn't get the dog to stop barking for a few hours this evening, and because I was stuck at home listening to it rather than out somewhere getting awkwardly drunk.

I'm not particularly good at advice, and I'm not really looking for it in this case. Just the sympathetic eat I imagine I get from the blog, despite knowing that fewer that four people out there ever read the damn thing anymores. You knw I'm just about finished my third year of blogging? And my personal development in that entire time has been totally negligible! Stuck on an existential treadmill, man!

I always thought this thing was helping me. And in a sense it has been, because I'm not such an impatient, rage-filled, headcase as I was before I had the blog to unload my shit on. And yet now, it all seems for naught because although I'm not that thing, I'm not much else, either. What kind of a life do I intend to be living?

And what kind of thought is that to leave out on?

I considered using a sleeping pill for the first time ever last night. I've heard they can be addictive, or at least, you develop a mild dependancy. The last thing I need is another chemical to lean on. No thanks.

Did I blow my chances with some great girl somewhere along the way and not realize it? Don't answer that - I have enough time dealing with all the girls I know I blew it with (not including the ones I never had a chance with in the first place.)

I'm trying, I assure you I am. But Christ, you know it ain't easy.

I told you I was going to be a drag.

Keep on rockin'
Scott