The Badly Written Sitcom

     Tina, you continue to baffle me. First off, the meaning of life, and its purpose, is living. At least,that’s what I’ve learned from ten years of moving around and getting hammered so much. That beerhouse wisdom, free of charge. And RJ, I’m glad that you’re glad. NOt so much, but glad enough.

     It’s going to be my last week in Cavite, at least if things go as planned.

     I’m not really in the right condition to write right now, but I just got home and the PC was on and no one was using it, so what the hell, right?

     The next few months are again going to be harder than the past few, as I finally decided to break ties with the place and people that keep me sane. Time to fly without navigators, and see how high I can get.

     Details when I’m at least at 50%. Right now, I got less than shit going for me.   

    Finally. A hangover. Thank God. Of course, I could’ve done without waking up to an angry phone call, but I used to be a customer service rep, phone calls from disgruntled people are just one of the many things I’m used to. I did a lot of things I shouldn’t have done, like drinking without with less than two hours sleep and working for nearly 12 hours straight. (I use the term straight loosely.)

    Oh, man. Aches and pains everywhere. I love it. Tina, if you’re reading, I’m warning you, this is going to be another boring post. I’m into intellectual masturbation these days, simply because work doesn’t allow me to do so.

     My tummy is doing cartwheels. I want pancakes.

     Speaking of work, I’m glad to have a steady, solid schedule now. Going to work at 7 in the morning still is annoying as hell, and my salary is taking a beating from it, but at least the more predictable set up of my life makes room for other concerns that truly matter. 

    Like this one: I’ve been going through a lot of relationship shit (who hasn’t) over the past couple of months, and the latest episode on the never ending struggle not to lose my marbles happened to cause new and exciting ways to make my whole undefined lovelife just that more complicated.

     I like the fact that a lot of people are reacting differently to the whole possible wedding issue. It’s interesting.

    Like my trip home, last night, it was interesting. Jesus, how the hell did I get home?

    Good times.

     I miss my students, though. Not all of them, just some.

     I’m also leaving Cavite again…long story. Next post, we’ll talk about that.

    Now I have to take a dump again for the third freaking time this morning.

     Here I am, in the middle of a legal holiday, basically strapped on to the pC for an entire day of working. How the mighty has fallen.

     I’d like to address one issue though: marriage. To those around me consistently, this would be common knowledge, but to those who I only get to interact with through the wonders of the internet,  apparently the thought of me getting wed is reason enough for shock and awe. Hell, I don’t blame them. I knwo what sort of image I have cultivated, intentionally or otherwise, over the past several years.   Me going through the sacrament is like Spiderman shooting webs out of his ass. Funny, but highly unlikely.

     The reason for the whole "I think I’m getting married" conundrum from the last post is that well, somebody asked me to get married. And, I’m actually seriously considering it.

     I’ve always been a little partial to the "do first, think later" way of life, but a decade of unplanned mayhem, I think a change is in order.  Here I am, 25 years old and still wandering aimlessly. After having just started on my 67th job, I think I’ve just established that I don’t know what I want.

    And I see most of my friends married or on the process of getting married and it all looks appealing. I’m sure married life isn’t simple, I’m not a complete dumbass, but the pros seem to outweigh the cons exponentially.

     I wanted to work in television, but I didn’t enjoy it, and I left. I wanted to be a teacher, did it for a year, then left. Now I think I want to get married… but will I just leave after that litlle experiment fails like all the others?

     But I’m straying from my point. (I think. I’m not sure anymore.) To answer the question. NO, I’m not getting married. Not yet, at least. I’m still the guy yu’ll see drunk every Friday night with a silly grin on his face. Because I’ve given it a lot of thought, and what i really want is to just be here. Alive and having fun.

     God, that was a shitty post.