Hello Again

This is what I did today. Slept till eleven. Freaked the fuck out for awhile. Played "Thousands are Sailing" on Jason's guitar approximately 100 times. Freaked out some more. Read Jacob's blog. Got really depressed because he is so much a better writer than I am. Had quite a short "buck up, little camper" rally. Signed up to blog again myself.

I did this blogging thing before, and I guess some of it was okay. The thing is, I need to decide ahead of time what it's going to be. If I write really personal, confessional, dishy stuff, then at some point I will want to write about things that my friends are doing, and I'm not going to want them to see it, but I will already have been so vain and desperate for approval that I will have them all reading it, so I will just stop posting. Which is what happened before.

If I decide to write about what's happening in the world, I mean, no. Just go to andrewsullivan.com or something. I have no ideas or opinions worth sharing. Trust me. So I need to think of or steal an idea.

Here is why I am freaked out and why this reads like I have had seven cups of coffee instead of the TWO Xanax I have ACTUALLY already had today.
I have, I think, reached some sort of critical job-not-having mass, and I may just expire from the stress and the no money. I have been drinking too much, which is new for me (unless you knew me in high school, in which case it's VERY OLD for me). I can't think about my taxes without having to take a pill and breathe into a paper bag and play a really sad Irish song (and if you were wondering why you didn't know I could play the guitar, it's because I can't, and thank god you are not my neighbors) over and over and then if I'm lucky I stop thinking about my taxes. For a little while.

I keep making jokes to people (Jason's friends, I guess) about debtor's prison and Dickens, and god, I am so tired of everyone thinking I'm so fucking clever and having it be so easy to make people laugh, it all makes me feel like such a fraud.

Oh, and all this stress? And the being broke? Is making me want drugs. I have three joints in my freezer, and the only thing keeping me from smoking one is the near certainty that the result will be only two joints in the freezer. If I'm going to be broke and craving expensive things, why not massages or brazilian bikini waxes or something? Why something expensive AND self destructive (well, I'll argue that another time, because maybe not so much) AND hard to get.

Tomorrow I am going to the motherfucking gym. At least that's paid for. If I ever post here again, I will try to find a subject and also to calm the fuck down.

Nicole, if you read this, I miss you a real lot. I've been thinking about you all the time. Love you. Hope you're well.