WELL I SHOULDA BEEN GONE
KNOWING HOW I MADE YA FEEL
YEAH I SHOULDA BEEN GONE
WHY ARE MY PANTS SO TIGHT?????
Or something like that.
I should have been out of this burg months ago. Months. At least. I could sketch a little tale about promises made and goals envisioned, but in the end it doesn't really matter. Everything has a shelf life and it's inconsiderate and unwise to test people's generosity. Even when they mean well, people can only give so much. And some of us can only take so much.
It's hard not having your own space. No matter how long you manage to sit still somewhere, it can still feel like Too Soon when you, inevitably, have to shove over. Everything feels negotiated, temporary, and doomed to end badly. You're a guest in your own life. It doth sucketh, verily.
I have no one to blame but myself. I'm not quite sure how it's been so many decades and I have jack shit to show for it. All around me, people who should be getting to relax and rake in the cash are unemployed and struggling. Some people are doing okay and that gives me hope. But if I'm being honest, I'm always waiting for the bottom to fall out.
For the record, because it probably doesn't seem like it, I hate having to ask anyone for anything. I hate having to be reliant on the kindness of others. I hate being a "problem" or a "concern." I hate not being able to help my friends and family. I hate being a drain. I hate having nothing but bad news. I hate not being independent. It eats away at some deep, vital part of me.
This is a less than stellar way to start the day. Now to go off to work. Yay.
For a person who has no life, I'm pretty worn out, y'all.
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