Since I don’t really want to fall into a brogger’s rut of simply posting nothing but a picture and a quick blurb of words, on a daily basis, I sit down today to write.
A brogger’s rut isn’t the only thing that I’m risking falling into these days, because as much as I hate to admit it, I feel that I have fallen into a more proverbial life’s rut these last few weeks. Ever since I returned from Chicago, I have struggled to get back into a sense of routine, comfort, and the resulting ease of mind that comes with doing the same shit on a regular basis. I guess it wasn’t necessarily the fault of my trip to Chicago, but now that I think about it, kind of a result of events and happenings of this summer as a whole, perhaps. Now I’m not going to say that my life is miserable and sucks by any stretch of the imagination, but at the same time I’m not going to ignore the facts, or at least hypothesis, that I might be a little depressed these days.
I think one thing I had going for me a few weeks ago was that I simply had the luxury of anticipation; I was looking forward to my trip to Chicago, there was something genuinely to look forward to, to work towards, to keep moving forward for. Even a job that I really didn’t care for didn’t seem so bad when I was closing in on the days, knowing that I was so close. Even with the disastrous way the Chicago trip began, with a monsoon over Milwaukee that caused a clusterfuck of airport scrambling that made me miss two flights, re-route through Raleigh/Durham, be delayed twice more before eventually making it to Chicago in the A.M. hours did not deter me in the least bit, because I was simply so overjoyed to actually be at my long anticipated destination.
But now that Chicago has come and gone, I’ve had some difficulty adjusting back to, well, life in general. And a lot of little things feel like they’re weighing on me these days, and I suppose it’s best for me to put them down in writing, lest they fester and eat at my conscious. At first, I couldn’t get up in the mornings, to continue to do my running and exercise. I gave myself the first day, since I had obviously had some trouble with the return trip, on top of having to awaken at 4:00 A.M. to make it happen. Fine. But there really wasn’t much excuse for the next two days in which I neglected to work out, using the excuse that returning from Chicago on an odd Tuesday has thrown me off my routine. It should be worth noting that I hadn’t worked at all on those days, on top of not working out, I was more or less a lazy slug for three days after returning from Chicago.
Supposed reasons for this depression:
The Weather. I finally got off my ass and worked out on Friday, which was brutal, because I had slept in yet again, and chose to run around the neighborhood at 11 A.M. when it was even hotter than the usual balls it has been, but at least I felt a little bit better doing so. But speaking of the weather, I have to go on record, and say that this has been the hottest summer of my entire life. As in, out of the 28 years I’ve been alive, I honestly cannot recollect a single summer season that has had more 100+ degree days, in succession, with this much ball-sticking humidity in the air to make everything worse. Seriously, just the other day, I got in my car and the temperature read 105 degrees. So, I actually am going to use the weather as somewhat of an excuse here, which I find kind of ironic, because it’s supposedly Seattle, and its litany of gray, dreary-looking days that leads to statistically more depressed people in the region, but here I am, in sunny, picture-perfect Atlanta, bummed, because I don’t want to go outside because it’s simply too fucking hot. It’s too miserable out to grill out, so no steaks, burgers, kabobs or brats on the menu lately, it’s too bloody hot to simply want to go outside and do anything, and it’s actually too damned hot for me to want to go to some baseball games. Not to mention the novelty of solo game-attending has worn thin on me this season, but still, much like I get a little anxious when I haven’t written in a long while, I get a little anxious about not having been to a Braves game in a while, but with this heat in effect, it’s proving to be an effective deterrent.
The Job Situation. I had a chat with my sister the other day, and as unfortunate as it is, I’m kind of relieved to hear that she’s also having a great difficulty in getting a new job. I thought it might’ve been just me, because no matter what I bullshit in a cover letter, I can’t seem to get a single call back from any company that I’ve actually given a damn about to send over a resume and cover. The tides are sort of changing to the benefit of the designer these days, but the reality is that I still have to compete with entry-level fetuses that seem to be target for many of these companies, and I’ve actually gotten one or two emails stating my over-qualifications for some positions. Well no shit, but I wouldn’t apply for an entry level job if I simply weren’t interested in being employed. Freelance has done adequately at making sure that my bills have been getting paid, but I really am quite over it, and just want a real job again, so I can financially stabilize, and project.
I’m So Ronery. So Ronery. So Ronery and Sadry Arone. You know, I was pretty much fine until the girl came and left, this summer. Relationships and the romantic stuff wasn’t so prevalent in my mind until after the first date, and then the second and third dates. It’s like everything I had worked so hard for, in building up my mask of solitary security came crumbling down, the moment there was thoughts and hopes that an actual relationship might blossom out of what was at the time, happening. Despite being more or less over the girl (seriously) these days, I’m not quite so over the idea of a girl in my life. It’s like I got a taste of what a relationship was like again, and then it was taken away from me, but instead of going back to how I was before the taste, I’m left wanting it, all over again. The thrill of the chase, the victory of getting in the door, and the benefits that come along with it. But I got nothing.
So with Chicago now in the past, and me with nothing to genuinely be looking forward to these days, I’m resigned to all these random thoughts and nagging concepts, which has me in this analytical state of depression. I’ve been anxiously bored when I don’t have a job to do, and the only thing that has had any semblance of engrossing my attention is Mass Effect 2. I’ve been staying up late to play ME2, and consequently slept in, and missed out on the best time in the mornings to run and work out. And now I’m done with the game, as well as the second-playthrough as renegade badass Commander Shepard, and I’m admittedly a little anxious at what’s going to bide my time next. Downloadable content, maybe, but even that can only hold my attention for so long.
I’ve attended a couple of baseball games this past week, with the Braves losing two of three that I went to. But the ballpark is hot, muggy, and miserable, and the weather has been an issue with sporadic thunderstorms, and rain delays, which is truly marring the experience. Not to mention one experience being around a miserable 23-year old girl whom I initially thought was cute, but then she opened her mouth and suddenly went from a six to a two, going on and on about how she couldn’t stand “bro” type guys, and seemed to have me pegged for one as well, thinking they were immature and obnoxious, before she went off with her friend to go “Icing bros,” because that’s the most mature activity in the world. Sadistically, based on what she told me, I know her name, precisely where she works, and what she does (bartends at a Ted’s Montana Grill), and the dick in me actually wants to go there and be an unpleasant patron, and more or less call her out on her hangups.
But anyway, this has been my substantial post of what has been on my mind for the last few weeks, behind the posts of random photographs and one-liners, and the honest truth is, that I simply probably just need something to look forward to. It’s kind of a like of distraction of some sort, but at least I know that when I’m genuinely looking forward to something, everything that goes on in life before it, seems so much more tolerable and easy to deal with.
