Shore Leave

My father is turning into a shitty roommate. Earlier, we went to dinner and he complained that the storage unit that I left my stuff in in Queens is costing him just over $50/month. Wow, fifty whole dollars? I could pay that out of my own pocket, and my only source of income is serving coffee part-time for $9.50/hour. It’s obvious that his problem is that he just doesn’t trust me. He thinks I’m going to leave my stuff in NYC indefinitely. But I’m not. I’m going to move back to New York, hopefully by the end of the calendar year, and retrieve it. Why is this so hard for him to understand? Every time he emails me that I’m not working hard enough, I ignore him. Somehow, this ever-so-subtle clue that I think he needs to back the fuck off isn’t getting through. So I guess I have to be a little bit more direct.

I spend about 90% of my time in a bad mood for reasons I don’t even understand. I spend another 9% in a bad mood for reasons that I do understand. The remaining 1% occurs when I feel, if only for a moment, that I have any idea what the fuck I’m doing here. I have a lot on my mind. They’re scheduling me for earlier and earlier shifts at work, meaning that I might have to stop staying up to midnight or after on a regular basis. That’s fine. I’m tired of doing that anyway. I like to think of myself as a morning person, but I tend to stay up late (or rather, early) because I can never get enough done to go to bed any earlier. I slept very, very badly last night. But I went to bed earlier than normal. I spent more time tossing and turning than actually sleeping, and all because I went to bed at an hour that used to be the norm for me just so I could get up early, shower, shave, and make it to work on time. This has to stop.

Different REM, but still.

Different REM, but still.

I dream almost every night. Technically, you are always dreaming when you’re in REM, but I remember my dreams most of the time. That used to not be the case, but they’re getting pretty crazy. A few nights ago, I was in a Marx Brothers movie. One of them was shirtless. I never found any of the Marx Brothers sexy, but that’s my penis for you. I wish I knew how to just shut that part of me off, but I go to bed every night having done as much as I could possibly work up the energy to do, and it never seems to be enough.

I keep meaning to just sit on my couch and watch TV all day, but sometimes, it’s hard to clear enough space in my schedule (in my head, really) even for that. There’s just so much to watch/read/listen to. I need to find some way to order and prioritize it, but every time I think I’m getting a handle on it, it slips away. Almost everyone I know has been in a serious relationship or two by this point. My parents were married when they were younger than I am now. I don’t want to turn into them, but still, I have to ask what they did that I didn’t. I’m not very happy, and I never have been. Looking at my finances, my employment situation, and my living situation, I see a lot to wade through. I’ve accomplished a lot in my life that I am proud of, and I like to think that this is only the beginning. I plan on living forever. I’m doing alright so far.

I try to stay off Facebook, to limit my time on social media and not have too many windows open on my computer at the same time. I’m trying to focus, in other words. I know what I want, more or less. I’ll go one step farther and say that I know what I believe, which is even more important. I just don’t know how to order it all, how to find the time and the place for everything I’ve been meaning to do. If this blog reads like a rambling monologue, imagine somebody sitting alone on an empty stage and delivering this one in a rapid-fire monotone. That’s what I feel like sometimes. My thoughts come a mile a minute. I barely have time to spit them all out.

The funny thing is that I moved back in with my father in order to get away from all of the craziness that was New York. Now I’m thinking that I might have to move out again just to get away from all of the craziness that is living with him. Sometimes, I have honestly no way to explain what the hell is going on in his head. There is no way that that $50/month puts more than the most inconsequential dent in his monthly finances. Why would he even bring it up? There has never been a point in my life when I sat around all day doing nothing for weeks or months on end. Hell, even as a baby, I was probably terminally restless. I like to think that I have both brains and good looks, yet I seem less happy than people who have neither. (And yeah, that probably does read as a little arrogant, but cut me some slack. If you met me, you’d most likely agree.)

I can’t keep running away to get away from the horror of my current situation. That much, I have figured out. Beyond that, I really don’t know. Understand one thing: the world domination that I mention in the subheading of this blog is not just an attention-getter. My ambitions are as lofty as the world will allow them to be. I have to keep pushing until I find my limits. And then, I might be able to sleep.

Here’s a funny video. Enjoy.


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