I spent my entire weekend toweling the basement and drying the towels. And the basement still smells like a wet sewer. And it still isn’t dry. I’m seriously considering seeing if I can’t rent a rug doctor to see if that can pull the moisture from the damned carpet. Seriously… an entire weekend just.... trying to salvage the basement and failing. All in all, though, I do have to admit that it makes sense. Local news posted a video of “the surprise flooding” and it was literally 1 block away. So.... the flooding was real and very near by and the fact that it was only the basement and, somehow, only the interior bits means.... it could have been much worse.
But considering my weekend was.... what it was.... and considering that my job is literally.... non-existent in many ways.... I called in today. The job has now become “monitoring the intern” and “receiving the brunt of the bullshit e-mails and psycho fucking voice mails.” In other words, my job now is to be a Meat Shield for the Law Student and manage the psychic bullshit of the job. Granted, it’s much better than being swamped with work that never goes down while being frequently attacked with psychic attacks.... so it isn’t like the job without the intern is worlds better. It’s just… without the intern, I’m too busy to address the suck.
Hinge Date is on track. Kind of. So… she was the person to bring it up, but brought it up the DAY I was going to. And since then the message responses have been.... we went from “response same day” to “maybe a response within the same 24 hour period. Maybe.” Which… when it comes to planning things is a bit of an irk. Like.... getting back to me quickly on how you enjoyed your bike ride is ultimately less important than getting back to me at all on whether 6:30 works for you or not. But I’m still nervous. And excited. I’m… not jinxing anything but there would be some cosmic poetry if this worked out. See, the very first girl I ever liked was blond. Then a decade later, the very first girl I asked out was blond. But I’ve never actually dated a blond. Never. This girl is a blond. So that would be interesting. But again… I’m nervous (can’t help but feel like when she sees me she’ll rethink her decision.) But hey.... 4 dates this year. That’s… with 3 different woman, of course. And if we count since Hermia, that’s 5 dates (with 4 different women). Which as sad as that may seem… is still better than most of my dating life! That’s another of those quiet voices that I struggle against. There’s this voice that says, “Okay… really ask yourself… other than Hermia, when did you date?” And… the answer is… my wife. I live now in the same area where I went to undergrad college. Whether Nancy or Hermia… my “dating life” is here. And I try to spin the quiet voice into that place. Into this introspective “I came here for acting in 2002; I came here for acting in 2022. Maybe I can find love while I’m here, again, too.” But that isn’t why the quiet voice is there. The quiet voice is there to be a dickhole again. To remind me that the 2 people I’ve actually dated in the last twenty years were a woman that couldn’t see me and a woman that could see me thus couldn’t bring herself to touch me. That’s why the quiet voice is there. To remind me that I’m Rocky Dennis.
As an overall thing, though? I’m struggling emotionally. I’m struggling emotionally due to a massive existential bout that’s… just… intense. See… growing up, I was always told that I would do something extraordinary. That I was smart, bright, insightful, passionate, well-spoken. My brother was a fucking artistic prodigy and I was poised for something similar with speech. But I’m past 40 now. While my brother is the head of his own Medical Art Company giving pro-AI speeches across the nation.... I’m arguing with Sovereign Citizens as to if they need to follow the law. While my brother has started a family and kept it going; maintained a relationship with his wife and had a child that is already 11 years old..... I dedicated myself to a woman that didn’t really want anything to do with me after the vows..... and now I can’t seem to string 3 dates together with someone who has all of their senses intact. I’ve done nothing with my life… But what seems to be more brutal is that I really don’t see that changing. I feel like I’m the 2nd Place King. Look at my dreams… I made them all come true. In a second place fashion. I wanted with all of my heart to be an actor when I grew up. And I AM. I get to perform every year. In a community theater. Where the talent there is volunteer and the money raised is donation. When I became an adult, I wanted a career that would support a family while aligning with my beliefs… so I wanted to become a Prosecutor. And I AM. I get to prosecute traffic cases in a county literally beset with constant violence! Where thirteen year olds shoot 10 year olds; and people with ZERO criminal record suddenly gun down a random stranger in an argument. Both child and adult Me really wanted a family. It didn’t have to mean children; just a family… even if just a wife and a dog. And I got that.... I had a wife and a dog… I just had to be okay with the thought that being married meant nothing to my wife outside of my own fidelity and being forced to accept a life without touch or kindness. I’ve lived every one of my dreams. Just the Twilight Zone Ray Bradbury Friday the 13th The Series version of them. Which is the smartest, meanest way of doing it. Because it means that I’ve done this. And that I’ve gotten everything I wanted. So how can I be anything but grateful? How can I feel anything other than pride in that I’ve “succeeded” in all of my life’s wishes?
That’s where I am these days. That’s why.... it doesn’t really seem to matter to me if I get out of bed or not. I’m sitting on the throne I’ve built. It’s empty. Its lonely. But I built it and its mine. What other dreams exist for me? What more do I want in this world? My dreams are the same as they have been. I want to act. I want to have a job that supports my community while paying me. I want a family. I’m on the same hamster wheel. I keep chasing the dream that I’ve already achieved hoping that… this time, it might stick. This time maybe it’ll actually work out. I’m living the dreams I set up for me. They just.... aren’t exactly working out.
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