Maybe someday I’ll lose weight and make a million dollars a day and save all the dogs and help my family and run a marathon (this somehow seems the least likely to me) and watch my own show on TV and save the planet/reverse climate change and travel everywhere on my list.
The least likely one of those is actually lose weight. I don’t know why. I probably don’t care about it all that much. When I’m tired/bored/anxious/sad/annoyed/tired again/any other feeling, food seems like the only thing that makes me feel better at all.
Day 123 – Weighed Down
Life is exhausting. I know I’m the first person to notice that, so you’re welcome for mentioning it.
On a happier note, I stood up for myself at work and it went well. I didn’t trip or pee myself or run into a wall. I didn’t stumble (too badly) over my words. I didn’t break down hysterically crying. I DID mention how uncomfortable I was, but that’s pretty much as good/bad as it got. My boss is awesome.
Anyway, that went well and then I got chicken for dinner and fell asleep on the couch so in case you were wondering, I’m a depressed, divorced, 50 year old man who’s about to have his reawakening in a mediocre rom-com.
I hope life is a movie.
Day 122 – Rom com hopes
If I don’t call my mom, I won’t have to know if anything else bad has happened, right? But then I leave her there, with her pain and her pile of work and worst of all, my father.
I never know what I’m supposed to do. Live my life? Live her life? Move back and help her? Move on and help myself? Call? Don’t call?
I so often choose not to call. I know. I’m the worst.
Does it get easier?
Day 121 – So tired
Bad news bears. My mom’s dog died. It’s hard to explain to people when your dog is ACTUALLY your best friend how hard this is.
It’s hard. Loss is hard.
I can’t seem to eat, drink, sleep, exercise, laugh, run, avoid, work, or beg the sadness away. How do people get out?
Day 120 – Sad Day
Do so-called “normal” people have as many ups and downs as I do? What is normal, though? Like, pumpkin spice lattes and cute fall photos and long blonde hair and a terrier puppy and a small waist and a job in PR? Or, like, a big friend group and co-ed sports teams and tickets to concerts out in the desert and a boyfriend of 8 years that’s perfect and church on Sundays? Or, better yet, a comfortable job and financial security and good friends and a spouse and a house and a workout class every Wed/Fri and hosting themed parties and in bed by 10?
Instead, I have emotional roller coaster rides and confusion and judgment from my family and flaky friends and constant sadness and lots of cookies and evenings on the couch watching reruns and a job I tolerate that pays me next to nothing and a dream I haven’t accomplished yet and disappointing my parents and anxiety.
Am I doing it wrong?
Day 117 – Normal
I am avoiding talking about all the real things. If I talk about the thing that makes me paralyzingly sad, I will be too sad to function. Duh. But really. It’s true. If I talk about my favorite TV shows and ice cream and the dumb thing I did today, then I can keep moving and breathing and getting out of bed.
I write this to be cathartic, but I don’t often use it that way. I talk about my relationship. I bitch about work. I drool over a cookie I ate today. I write about politics and then delete it because it just makes me angry and instead talk about my dog.
How the actual fuck do people survive devastating things without annoying everyone around them or collapsing into an immovable ball of tears or both?
Day 115 – I…Sad.
Relationships are hard. We pee with the door open now. We’re there.
We still date each other, which is nice. But now it’s like: go to work, text about work while at work, come home and talk about work, sleep so we can go to work.
He’s not working right now, which is amazing, because that means he has more energy than I do to clean or cook or walk our dog or workout. I appreciate all these things. But it’s unsettling, too.
Are we just going to end up as roommates? Will we still like each other? Will we still love each other? Are we going to have chore wheels and arguments about splitting the bills and sit around in our sweats burping up our takeout? Is that what happens? I feel like that’s what happens.
Day 114 – Roommates or Romance?
All I do is work and eat and work and sit and try to stay up and sleep and work. Do other people have hobbies? Energy?
I have a writing deadline… So far, all I’ve written is my name at the top of the page. You do not write your name at the top of scripts.
Day 113 – Work Work Work Work Work Work (thanks, Rihanna)
I was trying to walk into my boss’s office, but instead I got my foot caught in the strap of my backpack and I tripped trying to get out of it and FELL into her office. She hasn’t stopped laughing. It was amazing. What an entrance.
That moment alone reminded me of how much I love comedy. I just want to make people laugh, you guys. I don’t want to talk about murder all day. I like murder (when it’s not me or anyone I know or love or care about or have ever met…let’s not murder people). But I don’t want to talk about it all day. I want to make jokes and fall over and write comedy.
How did I get so far from my goal?
Well, reality. Bills and such. Expectations from my family. But really – I am to blame. It was me. I didn’t react well to the grief. I still haven’t recovered. So here we are. Killings instead of killing at stand-up.
I got sad. I got angry. I curled up in a ball. I crawled inside myself and never came out. Every time I think about making people laugh, I also think about how sad I am.
Can I even do it anymore?
Day 110 – I miss laughing.
And now 4 days behind. It’s so weird that this happens because I really do need these posts. They’re kind of saving me. I don’t know if I just kept it all inside before or burdened my friends with it, but I have come to rely on this format. So… even if there’s no one watching or reading, it has changed my life.
Now if only it could fix my procrastination…
Day 100 – Nice. 100 days. (4 days ago.)