I think I'm having a mid-life crisis. I must be because then it would coincide with what the previously discussed "agitators" (thank you, Anonymous; that beats the hell out of the "life-sucking fuckwads" I sometimes refer to them as in my darkest moments) seem to think - that this is all just my fault and it will blow over in time. I haven't been this miserable in a long, looong time and I don't want to fall back into the same shit I did before. For one, it would kill me now and b, I can't afford it because of the aforementioned "agitators."
I am in Sin City with a heavy mind, a fatter ass and the urge to do something stupid creeping up on me. I'm just happy that my self-control is still tied into my severe stubbornness. It just puts a damper on the usual, acceptable fun that can be had in a place where no one I know will see me for a year and the rest don't give a rat's ass.
Going to revel in some selfishness because no one's here to make me feel bad about not caring about other people for a change -
I need a nap.
I need a drink.
I need a friend.
I need some food.
I need... fuck it. It doesn't matter what I need. But it will. Because any more of this and it won't be clean and it won't be nice. It'll be dirty, ugly and mean and that overseas job offer will start to look like a dream come true.
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