Sober sober sober.

If you put two "e"s in by accident, it's "sobeer" and not fair.

I hate being broke. I suppose this is a sign that the time off is nearly up.

I just don't really see a point to, well, any of it. I do little but hang out with a select few people and work. A life based around that is more than busy enough, but Goddess am I bored. I live to work, I work to... buy shiney baubles? To me, living to work is the end of the line right now, and it makes it all seem not worth my time.

I suppose I work to keep myself in drugs and skanks. What a great motivating factor. But see? SEE? This is totally what I mean. I work, I get off, I hang out with some people and get fucked up. I work, I go home, I get fried in my room and read or watch movies or whatever.

Now that I have time off, I sit and get fried in my room, and can usually put away a bottle of wine before it's too far into the afternoon. It's a fundamentally sad, dull way to live.

Not living is really the only immediate solution I can see, but if you know me at all, you've probably heard me mention that I'm too wimpy for that. What if I get around to it, and it turns out being dead is just as dull as being alive? So yeah, not my type of thing unless I get to see some brochures or can work out a time-share deal or something.


Speaking of timeshares, as I've lost interest in doing anything outside the walls of my room, including going into town to restock the pharmacuticals, what money I do have in the bank is pretty safe, and I'm thinking of using it to go to Hawaii on my Nana's timeshare. They just got back and didn't use the whole month they get it for, so it might be fun. We'll see where the priorities are a little furthur into March.

Well, there's a bit of writing. More sober means more updates, I suppose.