This is the last worthless posting that you'll have to read...

I do crack myself up. I think most the time I am the only one laughing, because I am the only one inside my head, and I am probably the only one singing the post title to the tune of a certain Don Henley song from the late 80s.

SOoo, yes, I am not Mary Sunshine 24/7/365. I try to be positive and optimistic but dude, I am human, life flipping gets to me some times!

It really does.

I am not afraid to admit that sometimes (read as: just about everyday lately) I do not know my purpose or my place in life. And I don't know what's up and waiting wears on me and then BOOM a whole sad sap whoa is me diarrhea of the mouth sort of post. I am not proud of it. I actually now more than ever see how one might become, mmm, say...addicted to drama. There is a rush and a reaction and if you are with the right button pushers, it's just like a good drunk.

So, I am kinda back on that should I stay or should I go conundrum. It's just this title...it doesn't fit. Do I make it fit or do I expand into something that is more me? Do I keep wearing the ugly green sweater because I have it or do I get the more flattering orange one because it is time?

I now have porn linking to my site. I think that's like a penultimate sort of thing. Like no one really reads me but I get enough random traffic that porn is willing to link up to me. I don't really know how all that works, but hey what the hell, let's be thankful for that traffic, right?

Also, maybe this isn't the last worthless post. I don't know. If you were to ask me, most of them are worthless. It's something I like to do. People like to whittle but you don't see them putting it all over the internet so maybe I am just still slightly too self-involved to be of use to anyone on any positive level. I don't know.

That's my manta by the way. I don't know. I don't know anything. I know what I would like but in the grand scheme of everything I don't know how things will work out. Say it with me...I don't know. It's a little freeing isn't it? Give up that control and just holler a loud I don't know.

Yep, see, this post was pretty worthless.

...between the poles and the Equator, don't send a private investigator to find me please...

Pink Verdana. My favorite font. Yes, I have one of those. It's really only the beginning of what is wrong with me. Friends don't let friends have font preferences. I think Moses wanted that on the tablets but unfortunately he has chosen a 12pt Courier New and had to leave it off. 

Algorithms bother me as well. It's more than a little creepy that I should queue up Michael Penn's "No Myth" and YouTube should recommend a dozen and a half songs that I would have probably picked myself as a follow up. Granted, it probably never saw that I would randomly pick to listen to "The Crab Song" by Faith No More...but now that I have whoa YouTube is onto me big time. Drats! 

Imagine me with a twisted frowny face that can not possibly be replicated with symbols. Yeah. It's been that kind of week. I am not even sure why I let myself get excited about possibilities. They are not endless and always do seem to end. Sprouting more gray as I type, that is how fabulous I am right now. 

Sigh. 

Sitting here the last couple of days, uber-depressed, ultra-uncertain and uniquely despondent. There's not really any sort of theological or philosophical nudging that is going to the fix the broken that this is. If you missed the post the other day, then you missed that I have been reading old writings which only serve to amplify how not okay, not better, not progressing life really is. 

I should not have to go Captain Dan everyday of my life. So tired about hearing about how it has to be bad so you are grateful for the good. I was never ungrateful for the good! I think the events of the last four years are unduly cruel...unless, of course, God's plan for me is to create a woman who makes Madalyn Murray O'Hair look like a sweet, little Daisy scout. If that is the plan, then yes, all of this makes perfect sense.

I regret that I ever tried to do anything productive with my life. I genuinely regret the time I wasted going to college. College took so much time away from Jordan. I could have been a better mother to her...it was supposed to be okay. The time away was all going to be worth it. College was supposed to afford us things that I supposedly would have never been able to provide with only a high school education. I had so much hope...

It's hard, you know, having my kids spaced as they are. I can't look at the youngest and think he has a bright and limitless future ahead of him because all I can remember is how I looked at the oldest through those rose-colored shades and how despite my hard-work and best efforts...not, didn't really happen. 

I just don't even know what the hell I am supposed to do anymore. Completely give up? Let all our shit go, declare bankruptcy, go on welfare and numb myself with a state-funded addiction to painkillers and anti-anxiety medication? (For the record, the fantasy addiction is not a current addiction. We can barely afford our insurance, let alone the cost of actually using it.) 

Really getting that wanderlust again. Get the hell out of Dayton and finding some place where there is a job market that wants me...or my husband...or my kid for that matter since she can't seem to get hired anywhere either. Existence is not supposed to be this hard. I know all about the lilies or whatever who never worry and everything is taken care of blah blah blah. 

I am not even sure why I write anymore. All it does is stir up my monkey rage. People don't want to read that. heck, people don't want to read when I am brilliantly funny either because I have loads of unliked statuses that fit in that category. I was thinking about forcing myself to be more disciplined with my writing, but what's the point? I mean, I am my biggest fan...unless there are lurkers who have built shrines to me in cluttered plasticware cupboards. 

I dunno. I just can't do this. Not without heavy sedation. So that when this descent finally ends with a thud, I'll be too far gone to feel the pain of impact.

Testing the new Hootsuite App!!

Ok, so, how cool is this! I can now post from Hootsuite! Yeah, I kinda dig it. This might just be the best news of my day :)

Come on you raver, you seer of visions, come on you painter, You piper, you prisoner, and shine!

So, yeah, it's been almost a month since I posted. The job is okay. I've got a couple of good people to keep me sane so that's been nice. I am not crazy about it though. I wish I was. I wish that the point where I "figure" everything out would come much later in the assignment so I wouldn't get so damn bored.

The ceiling is fixed. Not painted, but not a huge gaping hole anymore and that's all I really care about right now. No time or money really to decorate. I don't know why my other half said that we would paint it. I guess to save some cash. I will bet you right now that nothing happens until we are looking at moving again...then will finally break down and paint.

I have been really down the past few days. Like really dark and depressed and dreaming about things that are disturbing. Like moving in with your in-laws disturbing. I thought that it would help me to go back and read some old post but I unfortunately went back far enough that all my post were happy and optimistic. I am afraid I don't even know that woman anymore.

I don't remember how to be. I only got to be her for such a short time. Most of my life has been headache and heartache and chaos and grief and sweat and tears, that pampered little posh bitch was an outlier in the grand scheme of my life.

It's the crux of all philosophical and theological predicaments in my life. I always felt like I was trading pains, like I'd solve one problem only to be given a bigger problem. Re-reading those old post, I clearly didn't think that was a possibility anymore or I would have been preparing for it. They were hard to read because I know what is going to happen to the writer. Poor bastard. If I had half the faith I had then I'd be in better shape, but there is something about...being unheard and invisible that wears a person out.

I feel very stuck and very pessimistic and I probably shouldn't listen to Pink Floyd at a time like this but hey, at least it's not a dark, industrial song fest...I save that for the privacy of my car.

Truthfully, I don't have the energy to shine anymore. There are billions and billions of other stars in the galaxy, if one fades away who really notices anyway.