angry and sad and confused and tired

Most days are the same now. Even more so than before, when I had a job. Because now, I stay home most days… and stay in bed an extra half hour after I’m really awake… wondering what I must do first.

Usually, I think of something that I want to look up online, but then I think that I should eat first. And then I get stuck wondering what I should eat… and then I drift off and think about something else, until something reminds me that I shouldn’t be in bed but be working but no wait I have to eat first. What should I eat?

Then I finally say to heck with it and get out of bed and open the fridge and open cabinets and drawers in my search for a suitable breakfast. I usually settle on something that needs a little preparation and something to tide me over while I prepare. Usually, the preparation requires another trip through the cabinets and drawers to find something else to add.

Once breakfast is finally ready and I’m at the table, (beginning this week) I watch some TV while I eat. If I’m early enough, it begins with the last bits of Good Morning America. If not, it’s Regis and Kelly then The View.

I go through breakfast slowly… partly because I’m distracted by the tube and partly because I don’t have as big an appetite as I thought I did when I made so much breakfast. So breakfast turns into brunch which turns into lunch and pretty soon I’m wondering why I’m watching Jerry Springer, soaps and court TV.

(Answer: because there’s nothing else on while they’re on commercial break from the live coverage of the police chase in East LA)

My computer is usually having breakfast/brunch/lunch with me. I work a little bit on my website, surf a bit, etc while I eat.

Soon it’s time to scramble to do a few household chores before everyone comes home. Usually it’s just dishes and making rice but a few nights a week, I actually have to make dinner.

The meat is likely to be undercooked because I’m impatient. But the vegetables are likely to be overcooked and mushy because I forget about them. It’s very depressing. Lately, I’ve felt the need to make sweet things too… like I *need* to… like my life and sanity depends on the fudge.

I made oatmeal chocolate chip cookies on Friday. Except I didn’t have enough oatmeal… only 1/3 of what I needed… and I didn’t have any chocolate chips. So I used only 1/3 the amount of the oatmeal that I was supposed to and melted some Hershey’s dark chocolate in the microwave oven. They came out cake-y.

Anyway so… when dinner’s done, I eat it. Then I get back on my computer…

—

And here I am. Today I am angry because the pork wasn’t done and the sauce didn’t come out like it was supposed to and I suck. But I know that’s really not why I’m angry because I know that I’m angry for no reason.

Initially.

Only initially because now I’m angry that I’m letting myself be angry for no reason.

And then I’m sad because I can’t help being angry and I want to know why. But I’m confused… because I don’t know if I should even wonder why or if I should just stop and how I could just stop. And then I’m just tired.

And I wish I could just stop. Stop thinking about everything that needs to be dealt with because I don’t want to deal with anything. I only like responsibility when I know exactly what to do.

Sometimes when I’m afraid to do something or when there’s something holding me back, I say heck with it and just do it.

—

My dad just came in and said good night. I kissed him and said good night and ‘love you and he sort of grunted… made a “noncommittal sound” as he walked out and pulled the door closed behind him.

And I thought to myself this is so not the time for him to do that. So I cried a little. But then I had to look up “noncommittal” to be sure I had the right term and the tears faded.

I could think about it some more but I don’t want to deal with it.

—

I don’t remember what I was going to say about just doing it.

This wasn’t it but… it seems to be becoming harder to just do it.

Oh I just remembered something that I’d wanted to write about earlier today.

—

Sometimes, when my relationship with God is going well, I think that it would be a nice time to die because I knew that I was on good terms with Him. Doesn’t happen very often but still.

Sometimes I say to myself that I want to die because life seems unbearable but I know I don’t mean it because just as afraid to die as I am of facing my problems.

But this morning, I remembered that my sister was gone and that the only way I’ll ever get to see her again is when I die too. And I thought …

—

blue

As the sky without a cloud
As the calm sea’s soothing waves
As a blanket long held, loved
As a pair of faded jeans
As much as these bring joy
That much does mine blue, not

he would stare

He would. And stare. And stare. And smile, his eyes twinkling, the apples of his cheeks rising, his beginnings-of-a-mustache twitching.

And I would smile, and stare into the black pools of his eyes.

And time would stop.

Or it seemed to, and how often we wished it would.