Well, another weekend has passed and Monday has arrived. Mixed blessing. I was actually so bored this weekend that I went to bed early both nights. I’ve been in a major funk the last couple of weeks, and I can’t seem to get out of it for anything. I never feel like doing anything, and then when I finally do get around to doing something, I don’t really care enough to apply myself. It worries me because the last time this happened my life ended up getting so screwed up that I made some bad choices and ended up exactly oppisite of where I wanted to be. If something doesn’t change soon, I’ll start having those dreams of moving to New York, starting over with a whole new life. Out of everything in my life, that is the one thing I am afraid of, that I’ll never be able to find a place and settle down. Everywhere I go, something happens and I just don’t feel like being there anymore. Which means I could honestly spend my life in total isolation because I can never stay in one place longer than a couple of years. It’s so annoying too, because I seem to take a step forward, things start to get better, then two steps back, and I can’t seem to make it forward again. Ugh, anyway.

Supposed to find out soon about working this year, if it goes like everything else has the past couple of weeks that will fall through as well. I really hope it doesn’t, cause I am still consdering moving out. If I do I’ll need the extra money. If I don’t, extra money would just be nice.

I’m supposed to talk to somebody about getting a motorcycle as soon as I get off work. Maybe that will get me in a better mood. It’s been so long since I have been on one, since the wreck, that maybe I can actually ride it without being afraid. I haven’t had the dream about the wreck in a long time, so that’s a good sign that I’ll be ok with it. It still creeps me out thinking about it. If things hadn’t gone exactly as they had, I’d be a pancake buried in a six foot hole. My shoulder still hurts every once in awhile, I think just to remind me that life is a gift. I’ve been in so many instances where I’ve almost died, it’s amazing I can even function. When I was real little I fell in the pool at home. I can remember the water, looking up through it…to me, it seemed I was down there an eternity. If I had taken a breath though, or tried, I would have drowned. My brother jumped in like a split second after I fell in and grabbed me, but because of that day, I still have dreams about being able to breathe under water. Freaky.

Anyway, enough of that talk. I need to do some work or I’m just gonna have to grab a bottle of Prozac and eat them like skittles.