Alright, time to fill everyone in on the latest....

I was supposed to have my last day at Ritz today, Friday.... but they let me go early. Tuesday ended up being my last day. Not fired, mind you... just let go because I was not putting the typical managerial effort forth anymore. So... go home.
I am still looking for a job. I desperately wanted to work at Discmakers in Pennsauken, NJ. I thought I had a good chance but I was wrong.
My newest light at the end of the tunnel is with my former employers, TV Guide. They're hiring for a position which I am familiar with, working side by side with them when I was employed by them. We'll see how that goes.

I wanted to apologize for the post beneath this one. I had my reoccuring epiphany again... "why not say what you want to say. you're feeling it. just say it. who cares." Now I'm a bit embarrassed to have it up there. I was considering taking out the first part and just leaving that wonderful quote given to me by the wonderful Ed Brockmeyer, but that would be censoring myself even further. So just know that I am a bit embarrassed by exclaiming I felt like fucking everything in sight.

Alcohol. I don't know why I even bother drinking anymore. I do it so rarely and everytime I do, it sickens me more and more. Recently, everytime I take a few shots of my beloved Rumplemintz, I get very woozy and sometimes (like last night) end up puking. Ugh. For better or worse, my body can't handle the bad shit. Alcohol, pot, who knows what else. I think I'll just stick to my cigarettes and be happy I can be SLIGHTLY off from straightedge.

If you couldn't tell from the poem below, I am depressed. But not in the sad way -- just a "whatever" type of apathetic depression. I just am too open to the world and see it for what it is. I have no plans to kill myself or shit like that. I do however believe I've lost the desire to live. (Not to be taken with more than a grain of salt.)
When John died, we were sad. We were sad because John wouldn't be around anymore. He was a good guy and people wanted to be with him. As the song goes "He was a good boy, they say. The girls all wanted him to dance with; the boys to play... to play."�
But we were not sad because he had lost his life so early on. We were not sad he could never live out his dreams. Do you know why? Because he had none. He didn't look kindly on the future because he didn't see one for himself. So of course he didn't fight the cancer. It was more a blessing than anything else. And when I tried to help him find a future, I realized he was right. He had no future. Nothing to live for, nothing to excite him. He floated along and entertained himself with whatever was around. But it didn't last long and he'd get bored. He was not the relationship type. He was not the career type. He was just another feather in the wind. A flower in a hailstorm.� And I feel like that. I'm sorry, but I just don't see a future I am happy with. I don't see a career I could be happy with. I have lost my passions. I see no comfort in what lies ahead. And I suppose I'm the only one who can change my view, but I believe that to be near impossible at this point.

...as I dig my hole a little bit deeper. Sorry... to you, the reader, who has lost interest in getting to know me better, or trying to understand me. I am sorry.


� Sarah Slean, "Eliot"
� The Eels, "Flower in A Hailstorm"