see voo run, see voo play in Diary

Hello. It feels like it's been awhile since I've written an entry, though I'm guessing it hasn't been longer than a week. I don't mean to be a downer, but I really haven't been doing well lately and I don't know what to do about it. Everything seems to be getting worse and worse all the time. I know it's technically possible for me to change, but I just don't do it. I guess that's what it is. I'm not trying to make excuses, just seeing if maybe writing a little will help me work something healthy out in my brain.

It sucks feeling the way I do. In a way, it reminds me of how I felt after Lesley and I ended our relationship. Not quite that bad, but not far off, either. It's like I'm looking at myself through a glass, watching me slowly self destruct.

Writing this down makes me feel a little more optimistic, though. In reality, things are better than they seem right now. I'm just really depressed in general, and specifically about all the stupid choices I've been making lately. I'm ashamed of the things I've done recently. There hasn't been anything too bad, nothing that has affected anyone else, certainly. But still, I feel dirty on the inside.

Oh well. Acknowledging how I feel, and how I want to change how I'm living, is the first step in actually making the desired changes. So there you have it.

After taking care of my mom's bird for the past couple weeks, I've come to realize for sure that I never want to own a parrot. They are just too loud, too demanding, overall too needy. This particular bird, with no provocation, will shriek as loudly as he possibly can, right next to me. I can't stand that. To avoid hurting my ears, I have to wear headphones around him all the time. Plus, birds are stinky and messy. Really, they are no fun for anyone. And when I try to feed him, he will try to bite my fingers, so I have to use a paper funnel to give him his seeds and sometimes ward him off by using a stick of some sort. I'm so tired of him. Right now he's whistling to me over and over from another room, trying to get me to come back in the room where his cage is. That might not sound annoying to you, but it grates on my nerves.

Another thing about birds, at least with some, is that you can't tell them what to do. They won't obey you. Whether or not they understand what you're saying, I don't know. Also, birds are stupid. I do like this bird, despite my issues with him, but damn, thank goodness my mom is coming back tonight. That will be one less thing to worry about. Enough about the bird already.

The temp agency has been calling me, lately. I would have called them back today, but they were closed by the time I got the message. The lady calling said that there are a few positions that she thinks would be a good fit for me. So hopefully calling them tomorrow won't be too late. This might sound kind of stupid and unambitious, but I really want to work in a call center again. As far as career aspirations go, well, heheh, that's not my aspiration. I want to get published and be a writer. We'll see. The sooner I get off my butt, or maybe get on it, and finish my novel, the closer I'll be to following my dreams. I keep telling myself I can't do AA, because I fundamentally disagree with most of their key concepts, but maybe I'm the one who's wrong. I doubt it, though. Heh. Not to be a prideful knob or anything.

I have this book called Rational Recovery. I'm thinking I ought to dust it off and give it a go. Also, I'll get back on this plan the doctor suggested for me. I haven't started it yet. Maybe today's the day, although I don't much feel like drinking at all at the moment. And I'll keep going back to church, because I feel good when I'm there, better than I do sitting in this house all the time, not exactly feeling sorry for myself, at least not all the time, but marinating in my depression and anxiety. Last Sunday I slept through it, or I would have gone. You know things are bad when I start talking about religion, something I've made a habit of not writing about in my diary for several years. That reminds me, I've got to find a way to get all these Prosebox entries onto a flash drive along with my Open Diary entries. And I will at some point print them all out, both to have a hard copy and to avoid losing everything in the event the flash drive gets wiped or lost. I have one big book of old OD stuff in my old room at my dad's house.

He is currently hiking the John Muir trail on a 200 mile trip, and he's doing it solo. I'm a little worried about him being out there all by himself, in bear country no less, although he is a capable backpacker and is in pretty decent shape. One of the guys who was supposed to go with him was "not feeling well" and left for home after 3 days. I don't know what not feeling well means, in his case.

In other news, I've been enjoying listening to a lot of Bee Gees concerts on youtube, lately. They are not exactly my style, but they were so good at what they did that it's been interesting hearing their music. One of my favorite things in music is vocal harmonies. That allows me to appreciate all sorts of music, whether I like it or not. Are you picking up what I'm laying down?

I've been stressed out about my teeth, lately. They are a mess. Cavities, plaque, a loose crown. It's ridiculous. I haven't been to the dentist in a long, long time. Until I get dental insurance, I'm afraid the best I can do is keep brushing regularly. If my teeth start hurting, though, I'll need to dip into my savings and bite the bullet, as it were. As it was. As it always shall be. Sorry, I feel like being a nerd right now.

Well, I guess I'll go sit with the bird for awhile. Or maybe not. He's screeching again. This entry has gone on long enough, anyway. I feel lots better after writing this. I'll check out y'all's entries, next. Take care. I hope all is swell.