No Sleep, Just Taxes and Grumpiness
Pardon me if I seem a little grumpy… er, grumpier than usually. I’m having a bad day(s). I know I said I wouldn’t complain anymore, but I don’t have anything else to blog about and I haven’t posted anything in a few days. Hell, my phone was ringing nonstop yesterday with fans wanting to know why I hadn’t posted anything in four days.
OK, I’m exaggerating. But someone did call me (the same person that called the last time my phone rang, which was last week… sad but true) and I was asked about my blog silence. I shall break the silence with some old fashion whining.
I’ve totally messed up my sleep routine by staying up until sunrise and sleeping until noon the past week or so. The only way I can get back on track is to stay up all night… I mean day. I’ve been awake since noon yesterday. I’m at the point where I’m not tired at all, just a little slow and easily frustrated.
So what have I been doing? My taxes. After a healthy dose of procrastination, I finally hunkered down and did that mind-numbing task. After adding zero to zero multiple times and subtracting this number from that number that equals the same number I had earlier, I am finished. However, in a long line of disappointments lately, I only get 39 freaking dollars back. That includes the $2 from my state return. I wonder if they’ll even bother sending a check. It hardly seems worth the effort. At least I don’t owe anything. If it weren’t for the fact that I’m still paying off my student loans and I got credit for the interest, I would have owed money.
It was really depressing doing them because in 2006 I made the most I’ve ever made in my life—despite being underpaid. Now, I’m not making any money. In fact, I just found out that my unemployment is being held up for some reason (most likely a screw up on my part), so no check for me this week. Looks like we’re having pasta tonight… again. Also, it was depressing filling in the “your occupation” box. What is my occupation? Unemployed loser? Not quite yet. Once I start drinking whiskey with my Wheaties while I watch Three’s Company reruns in a stained t-shirt, then I’ll be one. For now, I’m just unemployed and uninspired in my underwear (not really, it was just another “un”).
That’s enough complaining out of me for awhile. Hopefully, something moderately good will happen today.
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Tag Hags
Everyday when I leave my apartment I see more tags on my building. I don’t know when these hooligans do their shenanigans because I’m out and about at all hours of the night and I’ve never seen or heard them.
I don’t like graffiti, and tagging is über lame. I just don’t get it, but I’m not hip or cool (people have said I’m cool and someone even once said I’m “special” [!?], but they must have all been high or didn’t know me very well). Are they claiming ownership of what they’re signing? Is it like a dog marking its territory, but with spray paint instead of pee. Most likely, it’s just ego stroking. “Yo, check it out! My name is bigger than yours!”
I don’t dislike it so much that I’ll do anything about it. If you do, there’s a Burlington Graffiti Removal Team.
On a sidenote. According to Urban Dictionary, tagging has another, very different, definition: “A pelvic thrust given from one man to another. Typically, the thrust is aimed at the gluteal area of the target man.” The next time I hear some punk kid bragging about tagging I’ll probably pee myself laughing. Shit, I just did.
Self-Deprecating Slobs Rule
I read an article about a study that found incompetent people are very confident in their abilities and competent people doubt their abilities. In another article, I read that “messy desks are the vivid signatures of people with creative, limber minds.” I guess it’s good to be a self-deprecating slob. There’s hope for me yet. Now, if I could just find some studies about the benefits of being obsessive, depressed, and/or reclusive. There probably are some—maybe.
By the way, this post sucks. I wanted to write something else, but I couldn’t find my notes in the pile of junk on my desk.
Disconnected Over Time
“Time flies like an arrow, but fruit flies like a banana.”
—Groucho Marx
Lately, I’ve been feeling like I’m running out of time. There’s so much I want and need to do: projects to start, projects to finish, things to learn, places to go, and so many other things. Sadly, I’ll never do most of it in the short amount of time I have here. Sadder still, I feel like I’ve ignored something I want and need the most: human connections.
I can’t remember if my lack of a social life is a result of working too much or if working too much is a result of my lack of a social life. Either way, I work a lot and I don’t have a social life. I’ll admit, I’m not a social butterfly; I’m a bit of a recluse. It’s my nature and I’m perfectly fine with that. I don’t have a lot of friends. I’ve always believed that it’s quality that’s important, not quantity.
Almost all of my friends are girls. Yes, I have a lot of girl friends; just no girlfriend. It’s always been like that, even when I was young lad. I don’t know why. Maybe I’m really a girl with boy parts. I seem to get along with females more and I find them more interesting than males. Plus, they’re better to look at. Oh, in case you’re wondering and for the umpteenth time, I’m not gay! A lesbian maybe.
Over the past few years, the only contact I have with my modicum of friends is through the internet. Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s a great way to stay in touch with people. It just seems that it’s replacing people actually seeing one another. I just fear that the closer we all become, the further we really are from each other.
I know what your thinking: “Why do you have to be such a miserable f@%# all the time!? Why don’t you just go live in a cabin in the middle of the woods!?” Well, I don’t have an answer for your first question. As for your second question; I will, but only if there’s Wi-Fi.