And I think I know why

Over the past year I’ve become increasingly detached from the world around me. A part of this is the insane amount of overtime I keep accepting out of sheer greed. If I’m going to be cooped up in my apartment anyway, why not?

The only news I’ve heard this week is about Gina Carano getting fired and Trump getting off, neither of which is particularly new, surprising, or inspiring.

The more inward I turn, the less I have to share about everyday life.

I know the Eastern European pharmacy I’ve been ordering from no longer accepts electronic checks, so I suppose I’ll have to learn about bitcoin.

I bought my cat a fountain because she wouldn’t stop hanging out in the sink. She still drinks out of the leaky faucet, but enjoys the fountain, too.

I was crippled yesterday from the amount I’ve been drinking. All I wanted was for the pain to stop. And now that it has, I want to drink again.

It’s a Sisyphusian kind of boredom. The days bleed into each other — it doesn’t really matter what time or day it is. I have the kind of job that is never truly finished, and I’ve been working almost everyday now for about a year.

Worse, the job is boring as hell. It’s not like I’m performing heart surgery or flying airplanes. I’m filing proxies for multinational conglomerates. So no interesting work stories, except for maybe about that time a client changed 300 colons to semicolons, then switched them all back an hour later.

It’s the kind of job you can barely believe is real sometimes.

In any case, this is why my writing has been so sparse and crappy lately. I’ve got nothing. And knowing this will probably change nothing. The job pays just enough that I’ll never leave, or blow off overtime to write.

All I can do is hang on and wait, either to be fired or for life to return to some semblance of normal. For now, with whatever free time I do have, I’d rather be playing with the cat or reading a book that’s actually decent, rather than mindlessly churning out crap.

But I can promise you this. I will churn out crap again. You have my word. I’ve already started.

Writer, Recently Returned Peace Corps Volunteer. Click here for books:

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