...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.

Wasting Time: The Story of My Life

So, I have just wasted a large amount of time arranging a photo book because I had an email for a free one. I failed to notice that the email was lacking a code and the date was kinda jinkie. Plus, we are about an hour over the deadline because quite honestly the My Publisher software really is not so user friendly. Seriously, would get to points and wonder where certain pics had gone only to have to relocate them on the hard drive.

It's not like it was a Christmas gift. The bad news is that I have been pouring myself into for the last several hours because it was going to be a gift for my husband on the occasion of our fifth wedding anniversary. No wait, the bad news is that because of who I am, I now feel compelled to create this little book myself in a much more fantabulous and albeit probably more expensive manner.

I probably won't though. How could I manage to create it and keep it secret all at the same time? We do live together after all.

Sigh.

It is a little upsetting. I could have been sleeping. Heck, I still need a shower.

I sometimes feel like this is the story of my life. I put a lot of work and heart into something only to have the whole thing blown by some strange circumstance. I'd really kind of like to think that I am exaggerating a little bit. But then I'd also like to think that it is my couch that is uncomfortable and not the fact that I have been sitting here working on a failed project for two hours.

I can't in good faith pay for it, because given the trouble I've had to this point I don't trust that it would come out as designed. It's not entirely wasted time either I suppose. I've just looked at six years worth of pictures. Well, what I could find. 2009 seems to be missing but then that was the year of never-ending sorrow (or something like that). I couldn't even find Christmas pictures. It would have been our last Christmas at the little house. Things were some what less harrowing by Christmas, surely they are around here somewhere.

Maybe someday all this mud will dry out and my wheels can actually get some traction.

G'night friends, I am going to hit the showers and contemplate why bad websites happen to good people.

You Tube, Google, Facebook, oh my! (Or how I let the life get sucked from my day.)

It has come to my attention that I have entered the time suck zone of my computer activities. Ok, so it has been in my sphere of attention for awhile but recently, it has mushroomed into a big issue.

It's not so much gaming. I don't really do any of that from my computer anymore. No, I prefer to lay in the comfort of my bed and play mah jong and poker on the Roku. I tried to keep up with some of those Facebook games, but there really does reach a point where they become unmanageable without me getting a smartphone and playing every waking second of the day.

My biggest issue with Facebook these days is that everyone seems to have forgotten how email works combined with everyone wanting to conduct business in groups. I am in a number of groups that are more business than pleasure, but inherently the problem is even with my super fast reading ability it still takes forever to glean information. So much bs clogging everything these days, IMO. It doesn't matter what group it is there seems like there is always someone spamming the board with their nail wraps and diet miracles. And sadly, they won't quit doing because it's working. I only wish I had that kind of time. The kind of time to put out links in such a sheer volume that the numbers would have to work in my favor.

Do I succumb to the obnoxious stream of media campaigning and get on board with a smart phone or some other web-enabled technology? Or do I go the other way and just say to hell with it all and go "off grid" so to speak? Is being plugged in just an illusion of progress? I wish I could answer that but I have a whiny boy curled up next to the laptop who needs clothes stat!