I went out and socialized last night, and I should know better by now about doing that sort of thing during the work week, (he says sounding like the crotchy old man he�s turning into), because I didn�t get home until almost midnight, and I have to have a couple of hours to �power down� each day before I can go to bed. The next thing I know, it�s almost 3:00 a.m. when I�m crawling into bed and 3 and a � hours of sleep just isn�t cutting it. What to do though, I spend all day in some form or the other being �available� to people, and I have to have some time to sort myself out these days before I can put the day behind me. Whine, whine, I know.Yesterday was just especially bad because I was even more grumpy, and then I ended up in a nasty argument with a close old friend, (the one I�m going to see in about a week), which just further pushed me down a miserable path, so I wanted to just hang around somebody and not mope the rest of the day. Oh well, plenty of fucking sleep when I die I guess, although after so many weeks of so little sleep, maybe that will be happening sooner than I think! I should be so lucky, right?
Anyway, (he says while yawning deeply into his beard), I�ve almost made it thru work and at the very least I can say I�ve been too exhausted to be in a bad mood. I�m sort of delirious at this point I think. Crap, I just closed my eyes for Christ sake! Arrgghh. I have had two Dr. Peppers, a Mountain Dew, a Coke, and I just started on a Pepsi for those keeping count of what it�s taking to prop me up.
Special thanks go out to previously mentioned friend that I spent time with last night that informed me that �my hair sucked and used to look so much better�. The list of things I�m not self-conscious about or have a complex about is getting shorter and shorter. What the hell, my personal politics has always been opposed to uniforms to express my individuality because first, that expression was supposed to be tied to not being shallow, yet it�s somehow something as shallow as a taste for particular pants or shirts that marked that depth of personality, and, I�ve met plenty of so-called �weird� people who, although they might dress �exotic�, fail to really be that weird or have any problems. I only understand two things about hair: In your eyes, or out of your eyes. I don�t care what mines doing, as long as it�s out of my eyes. And oh yeah, if it takes more than 30 seconds to comb, it�s too much effort. I wonder how many people could have written a poem or worked on a painting and instead fretted a little too long about their hair or their clothes? Of course, I had a friend that took that to an extreme: He stopped bathing regularly. Great friend just couldn�t visit him in the summer if you know what I mean.
