home-ish
In six days I'll be turning 29, meaning in 371 days I'll be turning 30, and I'll officially have to "grow up" or at least be on some sort of chosen path, a direction which will carry me to wherever I'm going.
It's not fun. Every year, right before my birthday life decides I'm going to be Tina to it's Ike, and smacks me around but good. Every year around this time I realize just how broke, lonely, bored, uninspired, emotionaly vacant, and out of shape I am. And every year around this time I think, "Next year is going to be different." Alas, this year, I'm broke, alone, out of shape, and emotionally vacant. I'm only sometimes bored, and mostly partially inspired to do some things, so, I guess that's a step in the right direction. Truth be told, what with all the taking stock of my life cause another year has passedm and me not doing well with the fianances or with the women, or with the staying on a work out schedule... me: not having the best time ever, which was only compounded by me coming home yesterday, and finding the power to be out in my apartment. This annoyed me on three levels. 1) I mailed the check in, albiet a little late, but it was on it's way, not that the power company had any way of knowing that, but still a bit of an problem. 2)I was supposed to have company over that night. They ended up cancelling anyway... but still. 3) It was hot outside. So in a brief moment I snapped and had a slight break down.
So, I called my dad.
I've been thinking about how since my mom died I've really pulled away from my family. It's been gradual, but it's there. Now I hardly ever see my family, and these are the people I used to live with. I've been feeling kind of bad about that, not making time for my family, but I'm not really sure how to go about rectifying the problem. A few years ago I had a falling out with my dad's wife, and I simply don't go around to the house anymore, as it's very uncomfortable for me everytime I'm over there. Plus I feel like I work all the time (even though it's only a 40 hour work week), I try to paint and write and go out with friends, and sleep and work out... although all that mostly equates to me surfing the web, or playing spider solitaire... so time just sort of runs out. One tends to find buckets of time when there's no power. And my dad's wife was out of town in Shiner, Texas, so I went and spent the night over at dad's house. My old house, which has been through some changes since I was a kid.
I had to look it up, and Thomas Wolfe is given credit for writing, "You can never go home again." in his book, Look Homeward Angel. Then again, so is Thomas Hardy... so I'm not really sure where it all came from, maybe it's just one of those things, that's been passed down through the annals of thought. I remember the line, "You can never go home again, but you can shop there." being a line that made me laugh when I watched the movie Gross Point Blank. Anyway, it's true. Although I was in the area the building where I grew up, it wasn't home. I slept on the couch, not my bed, and the couch wasn't even a couch my family had owned when I was last living under that roof. I did get the idea to walk across the street and tap on Theater Guy's window, to see if he wanted to play a little night hoop, like we did in the old days, but he had to work early the next morning, and I used my being at my dad's house as an opportunity to do some laundry. Dad made dinner, then offered to make breakfast. I didn't take him up on that offer, as I'm not much of a breakfast eater, but it was nice to be "home"-ish. It was nice to know that, even if for a little bit, it was someone else's roof that was my shelter for the night, and for just a moment I wasn't going at it alone.
They turned my power back on, after I made a fifty dollar payment over the phone, and they'll get my check by tomorrow, and then I'll be back in the red at the bank, so... it's back to reality for me.
It's not fun. Every year, right before my birthday life decides I'm going to be Tina to it's Ike, and smacks me around but good. Every year around this time I realize just how broke, lonely, bored, uninspired, emotionaly vacant, and out of shape I am. And every year around this time I think, "Next year is going to be different." Alas, this year, I'm broke, alone, out of shape, and emotionally vacant. I'm only sometimes bored, and mostly partially inspired to do some things, so, I guess that's a step in the right direction. Truth be told, what with all the taking stock of my life cause another year has passedm and me not doing well with the fianances or with the women, or with the staying on a work out schedule... me: not having the best time ever, which was only compounded by me coming home yesterday, and finding the power to be out in my apartment. This annoyed me on three levels. 1) I mailed the check in, albiet a little late, but it was on it's way, not that the power company had any way of knowing that, but still a bit of an problem. 2)I was supposed to have company over that night. They ended up cancelling anyway... but still. 3) It was hot outside. So in a brief moment I snapped and had a slight break down.
So, I called my dad.
I've been thinking about how since my mom died I've really pulled away from my family. It's been gradual, but it's there. Now I hardly ever see my family, and these are the people I used to live with. I've been feeling kind of bad about that, not making time for my family, but I'm not really sure how to go about rectifying the problem. A few years ago I had a falling out with my dad's wife, and I simply don't go around to the house anymore, as it's very uncomfortable for me everytime I'm over there. Plus I feel like I work all the time (even though it's only a 40 hour work week), I try to paint and write and go out with friends, and sleep and work out... although all that mostly equates to me surfing the web, or playing spider solitaire... so time just sort of runs out. One tends to find buckets of time when there's no power. And my dad's wife was out of town in Shiner, Texas, so I went and spent the night over at dad's house. My old house, which has been through some changes since I was a kid.
I had to look it up, and Thomas Wolfe is given credit for writing, "You can never go home again." in his book, Look Homeward Angel. Then again, so is Thomas Hardy... so I'm not really sure where it all came from, maybe it's just one of those things, that's been passed down through the annals of thought. I remember the line, "You can never go home again, but you can shop there." being a line that made me laugh when I watched the movie Gross Point Blank. Anyway, it's true. Although I was in the area the building where I grew up, it wasn't home. I slept on the couch, not my bed, and the couch wasn't even a couch my family had owned when I was last living under that roof. I did get the idea to walk across the street and tap on Theater Guy's window, to see if he wanted to play a little night hoop, like we did in the old days, but he had to work early the next morning, and I used my being at my dad's house as an opportunity to do some laundry. Dad made dinner, then offered to make breakfast. I didn't take him up on that offer, as I'm not much of a breakfast eater, but it was nice to be "home"-ish. It was nice to know that, even if for a little bit, it was someone else's roof that was my shelter for the night, and for just a moment I wasn't going at it alone.
They turned my power back on, after I made a fifty dollar payment over the phone, and they'll get my check by tomorrow, and then I'll be back in the red at the bank, so... it's back to reality for me.