For the past three weeks my life has gone on hiatus. For some reason, I have stopped and the world has continued to spin. I guess the situation I have found myself in is quite prevalent today, or so I continue to tell myself. You see, I am a product of society. Sure, you can tell me I am just a white, upper-class, 30-something Generation Xer crying out about my, “oh so unfortunate” lifestyle, but I choose to look at it in a different light. I represent a new era in the world of former, grungy Generation Xer's. I am a young, downwardly mobile man on the move. I just lost my job, my girlfriend, and my apartment. What they failed to mention in the brochure of life is that I would be thirty, balding, and homeless. Is there still time to get a refund?
I have, after all, been becoming a bit neurotic. You would be, too, if you saw your life slipping away from you. The sad part about my life is that I am not even on sedatives; I couldn’t sedate myself if I wanted to since I basically am out of money. To add insult to injury, my girlfriend just left me because we could not fit together on the twin-size, blow-up, air mattress where I am now forced to sleep. The guy from whom I subletted my apartment selfishly decided that he didn’t like his wife anymore and was therefore moving back to New York. Thanks, Bitch.
I now have the distinct pleasure to wake up every morning on the floor looking up at my younger sister sleeping in her bed. She wakes up to go to work while I have to turn over and inhale dust bunnies.
Someone kill me.
Because of my present circumstances, I am rapidly developing a case of the creeps. You might also get the creeps if you were spending every minute with your sister in a studio apartment. There is no privacy in one of these things. I think I may have caught a glimpse or two of some things I have never wanted to see. I may puke.
I can tell you this, I wish I was stoned. Unfortunately, I have to remain clean and sober, just in case I get a job. You never know if they drug test. So I have gone without the aid of nature to enhance my life, which means I can’t blame my paranoia on drugs. I am probably the first person to blame my lack of work on myself, but don’t whip out the tiny violin yet. I think there is a plot against me, I just haven’t figured out whom to blame it on yet. That is why I am obsessed with the evening news, hoping they will be able to inform me who my scapegoat of the week should be. Give me some credit here folks, at least I’m up on current events.