Saturday, January 15, 2005

Christ, I need to get it together!

Not one to subscribe to New Years resolutions because I usually end up fucking up and dscarding the whole thing by...oh...say, this time every January, I decided not to make any. I did, however, tell myself that I would get a few things done by my birthday, which is February 1st.

One of these things is to get some writing in to lit mags, which I have been working on. Another is to get organized...Another is to finish two websites that I've been working on. Another is to lose the several pounds that found their way onto my person during the holidays, making me feel even worse about myself than I usually do.

The organized thing comes out of necessity more than anything; I can't find a goddamn thing in my place. I also can't have anyone over who doesn't already know me really well...I'm such a packrat that it's gotten out of control.

There is a new tv show on called Committed that I've started watching, it's about two really, really neurotic people who are trying to have a relationship - and its really hilarous. I almost fell off the treadmill the other night from laughing so hard, the episode spoke to me so much (because I'm totally neurotic and out of my fucking mind, so I can relate). One thing was that the chick wants to go over to the guy's pad and tells him this over the phone. Before he can stop her, she' hung up and on her way; and he looks around his apartment in horror, and we see why as the camera pulls out: his place is a clutter horror show. Stacks of records and books, in piles everywhere floor to ceiling. Notes tacked on the walls to remind him to do this and that.
My place isn't that bad, really, but I have a lot of things in a small space. I also inherited a bunch of furniture from my parents and two huge counters from the play we did.

So, I am throwing things out this weekend, taking stuff to the salvation army...and giving books to the library. That's going to be the hardest part. I love my books...

I guess I'm just coming to the realization that I really need to get my act together. I'm going to be 33 and I live like a college student. I have a fucking tie-dye tapestry in my window, none of my furniture matches, there's cat hair everywhere, I can't balance my checkbook...I could go on and on. I've been so depressed lately because of a myriad of things, but that's one of them.

Another? Because my pad is so fucked up and I act like an overgrown child, I am having a panic attack about inviting dates over here. If they were to come over, unless they really new me, like I stated above, they would assume that I'm some neurotic, eccentric freak. Well, I am, but that is not the issue...

Truth be told, I think growing up is overrated, but so is living like a 20-year-old Dead Head on tour indefinitely.


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