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2003-12-24
I'm so foul. Christmas week, hectic and crowded, is being spent at the mall in which I work part-time. The same tired songs played over and over on the radio, different voices and different tempos, each equally as overplayed as the next. Live music in the food court: senior citizens on electric organs, children's choirs, and Christian garage bands. Everything is just slightly out of tune, at the wrong pitch and gently off center. It takes everything in me to keep from cursing aloud, to remain helpful and dutiful when really I long for a pitcher of beer and a cigarette. I keep thinking about smoking. I really have to stop that otherwise I'll end up giving in and buying a pack. That's ten dollars I can't afford to waste on urges. Tonight, after returning home from a three hour shift at the store (during which I avoided customers and coworkers as much as I could without avoiding my job), I immediately opened a bottle of beer. By the time I had finished the bottle, my body felt easy. It's amazing how alcohol can numb a mood. The next few days are going to be exhausting. I wish I could continue to lock myself away in my basement, ignoring the outside world like the self-centered sap I am, so I wouldn't have to deal with anyone. Most of it is laziness, I know, not wanting to confront anything outside of laundry and a messy bedroom, but I can't help myself. It's best I get all of this out of my system now so I can pull forward into school come January. I can't afford to lose myself again like I did this year. I just can't. In the new year I am making an effort to rid my life of all the things that tie me down. All those stupid insecurities and troubles that have kept me in denial. I've got to face the music sometime. (Really, I think half the shit that's wrong with me is just that: me. I need a life.)
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