There is ice on my car in the morning
While I clean it cursing and spatting
in the dark.
and spilling coffee on the heavy briefcase.

And the winter shoes and no socks
because the laundry is all dirty.
While you are sleeping in the bear-warm
comfort of a clear ice-ribboned day
through a window of double-paned glass.

WHINE WHINE WHINE

Oh lord. 7 days until I am 25. A quarter of a century. Little to show for it.

I am burned out on trying to reinvent or self-help myself. I go through cycles where I alternate accepting and rejecting myself; where I decide my problem is a lack of stimuli or too much. The internet presses down on me.

Gumbo Ya-Ya (Everybody talks at once.)

Every day just gets away from me. I have this terrible problem of listening to the wrong people, a problem of inaction. I just trade my life away for small, finite pleasures. Watching massive amounts of television. Eating somewhat poorly. I haven't written anything I've been proud of in a few months.

COMPLAIN COMPLAIN COMPLAIN

Having said all that, I am going back to school in a week, taking 18 hours: 2 walking classes, 1 computer science class (in Pascal), 1 Texas Political Science class, a class in Science Fiction and TWO Shakespeare classes, so, it may just be a fat lot of ennui. Next week, I'll be to busy to be bored and I'll be belly-acheing about my course load and not wanting to graduate.

BUT THEN I HAVE TO GET A JOB.

I should kiss my parents feet for sending me to school. I see people working at restaurants and retail and I think "If I play my cards right, I won't ever have to do that again." Don't get me wrong, I could easily end up in a menial job WITH a degree, but the odds are better that I won't. That is a fucking magic ticket from heaven, given how much I loathe and despise most of the jobs I've had in the past 7 years.