1352

First… this one is for Stacy: http://www.sinfest.net/comics/sf20040206.gif

Second… ouch. I really really feel like crap. Just when I think I’m starting to get over this shit, I have a super crappy day again. My head hurts so much.. my neck is actually sore from tossing and turning… the pain is generally a constant hum, but every so often I manage to stand up.. or move.. or breathe funny causing a sharp pain that actually makes me nauseous. That really really hot shower I just got out of seemed to help a bit, but still… ugh.

Third… I am bored out of my mind. Bored enough to be listening to internet radio. Bored of fixing the same crap problems from work. Bored of the same crap on tv. Bored. Restless. Broke. Sick. oh, and bored. If you’re bored, then you’re boring. Yes. I know. Boring, and lazy… and out of diet soda.

Wonder what the chances of getting a network cable run into the bedroom would be, so I could perhaps lie in the dark bedroom, smothered in comfy blankets, and listening to internet radio… if only this desk chair were more comfy.

I think the root of all problems right now is the realization bouncing around in the back of my head that tomorrow is mom’s birthday, and I’ve known all week that I can’t afford to go see her, even if I thought i could stand the trip. Sure, James is off this weekend, but how do you convince someone who has a couple day reprieve from the job from hell that he needs to pack up with you and drive for five hours just to go be bored out of his mind away from things like… computers and cable television and dvd players and civilization… where there is nothing to do but sit around and stare at each other that doesn’t cost money, just because it’s your mom’s birthday and you feel guilty. But no, we won’t go, and at some point tomorrow I’ll have to call her and make sure she at least got the card I sent, convince her to take the money and go out to eat with….somebody… to celebrate another year gone, and try not to think about the fact that next weekend would be dad’s birthday.

It doesn’t really all always come back to me being bummed over dad. It’s really about me being bummed over mom being bummed over dad. Or, I guess it’s really all about me feeling guilty that I let mom be all by herself so far away being bummed over dad.

Oh well. Looks like somebody is about to forget their bad day with some shots. Perhaps I’ll join them.