I so desperately want to write these days, but I’m having a lot of trouble coming up with things to write about for a number of reasons. The first, and biggest, reason is that there is literally nothing going on in my life right now. I’m in this waiting pattern where I’m looking for work, but nothing’s really happening. I’ve had some interviews, but nothing’s come out of them yet. So, I just wait. And wait. And wait some more. Every golden avenue seems to end after a few short steps, which is rather frustrating.
In my personal life, even less is happening. I was sort of killing a lot of time going out and doing things by myself, but I’ve gotten bored with the whole process. And going out with people isn’t cutting because I don’t have a lot of friends left locally who’ll give me the time of day and the few times I have been out with friends this month have been a little weird. And not weird because of them. I’ve just sort of lost the ability to socialize properly. I just clam up and keep whatever secrets I have to myself. Trust is funny that way. Not to point any fingers, but…
I’m not really depressed or anything. That’s the funny thing. It’s worse than that. Or better, depending on how you look at it. In all honesty, I’m finding myself feeling more and more blank these days. I just don’t care. Life sucks, whoop-dee-do. I’m not sure if feeling so blank is some sort of institutionalized laziness, but it’s seeming to have that effect. I haven’t shaved all week. I need a haircut, but don’t really care about getting one. I just exist.
Hence, my lack of tangible entries here and thereabouts recently. If there were some sort of button I could push every day to update my social networking pages with “same as it ever was,” I’d be pushing that button and going back to sleep. Unfortunately, life doesn’t work that way.