A few things...

A few things have happened since I made that last weak post. I started writing again. A car has become available to me, for the low, low price of $2700. My girlfriend and I are better. And I have an awesome living situation. I don't know why I feel like writing now. Perhaps its to just let go of some paranoia. Maybe some nagging annoyances.

So here it goes.

I hate that no matter what job I get, no matter how hard I work, I never seem to have enough money. As an addendum, I don't know why it bugs me that my girlfriend makes more than me. It shouldn't...she's very much deserving of it. I just want to finally provide financial security for myself without looking over and seeing other people achieve it so much easier. I love being a waiter...I've met some awesome people and the job stress is little to none... but I can't help but feel like I should be making so much more money right now.

I miss my mother and sister. I just want to see them and make sure they're okay. I mean, I know they're okay, but I want to see it for myself. I want my mother's money issues to disappear and never bother her again. I want my sister to be able to have confidence and security in who she is instead of being conflicted and confused...that being said, I know that sort of confusion happens around that age. I went through it too...but I hope the journey's a little easier for her.

I wish I could help my roommate with his girl troubles. Sometimes I want to shake him and say "Goddamnit, she's stringing you along! Trust me, I did that dance for two years and women like that are just not worth your sanity!", but at other times I kinda want to be able to find him someone good...someone worth him. Not that he would want me to, since all in all, he's just as stubborn as I am anyway. Probably moreso.

I hate that now that I have a girlfriend, women are paying attention to me. It's the age-old story repeated over and over and over again, but it's one of those "urban legends" that keeps coming true. And especially now that I'm overweight and crippled with a bad case of not giving a fuck.

I drink. I self-medicate. Fuck off. If you don't do it, don't do it, but stop trying to talk me down. The next time I'm talking about it with a friend and I'm shushed by anyone because someone has appeared who can't even stand the thought of MJ, I'm going off. I don't try to talk you out of being a Christian (anymore), so lay off.

Ugh, and I'm done. God help me, if I end up like one of the thirty+ year olds working at The Pie I will truly have failed. Till next time.