Thursday, October 16, 2003

Now, or something like it.

It's late-er and I'm still sober and a little disappointed. Okay, as many out there know, I'm always sober and have always been sober, except for that once, which is ever to be spoken of or written about until after my death.

I remember the days when I had a job that I hated. Those were the days that I really wished that I was a drinker. Get off of work at noonish after an almost eight-hour shift then kill all my memories of misery.

At first, in those days after quitting, I was glad to be me. Now, after months of search and no find, I once again wish I'd live up to the stereotype that is the Irish in me (or the German for Oktoberfest, I guess). I realize, now, that without school
and without work, I'm stuck with myself. I like... parts of me, but being trapped with me all day, everyday with few distractions is a much scarier thing than I ever thought it could be.

What is a person like me to do?

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