I've decided that I'm sick. I'm sick of living. I'm sick of being such a drudge. I hate my job. I still think I'm going to be fired. Yes, I know that may or may not be irrational.
Yeah, I know how damn blessed I should feel. I'm heathy, I have a wonderful son, and on and on. I know all of that shit.
I just don't want to live like this anymore.
No! I don't want to kill myself! I just don't really want to be alive.
Because I'm not alive. I'm some friggin' zombie. I live from paycheck to paycheck. I don't get to travel (but I have all those benefits!! yeah, right.). I could go to movies (because I don't have to have the Hubby around for that), but that gets into my irrational fear of spending money on myself. So I read, and read, and read. And if I could read for a living how great would that be! Wouldn't it be great to work in a book store (and still make what I am now, and have decent health benefits)! Or do Audra's role (the young intern on Rick and Brad on the KATT), I'm not sure I could be a DJ. Or work at a decent newspaper (not a whole lot of them in OK).
I kind of envy those depressives that can just sleep, and that's all they can do. Just let life go and sleep.
Not me.
OH, as an aside, I finished Sophie's World, I've started If Chins Could Kill, and am looking forward to Harry Potter on Saturday. Like I said, if I could read for a living, I would.
No comments:
Post a Comment