Super Great

I just got the news that I wouldn't be getting a bonus for the first time in three years at work because my performance was not a usual extraordinary over the last eight months. If you do the math, you figure out where it dropped off. Granted, in the last month or so things have improved greatly at work, but that's not enough to make up for the lost time. On top of that, I've gone from being considered for supervisor to getting a supervisor. The thing is I'm getting what I deserve. I don't expect it to get handed to me because I've had to endure a rough few months.

On the other hand, when I started writing this I had dropped fifty or sixty pounds, I wasn't sleeping anymore, I wasn't eating, I was coughing up blood and I was taking Tylenol PM to sleep every night. On top of that, I felt uncomfortable in my own skin, I was battling alcohol and I felt alone in a crowd. So, outside of work, I have been doing extraordinary and I guess that softens the blow. Plus, I have all of this year to do better and get back to where I was. I can't blame anyone. I should've been stronger than this and no one should be responsible for your performance besides yourself. Learned some important things this year that will come in handy way outside of work and way down the line. I also figured if I let this go on the Interweb I could let it go out of my head for now.

I Don't Know What I'm Doing

I've been focusing on work today because I realize in regards to dating members of the opposite sex I have no idea what I am doing. No idea. Flying blind.

Right Into The DANGER ZONE

Good news: found the gray area of drinking and I am absolutely comfortable in it now. I'm smitten like seriously head over heels in a gay way for a girl who is way too hot, witty, smart and good for me. I haven't felt like this for six years. It feels good, but scary

Bad news: loose ends are going to have to be tied up somehow and I am going to have to prepare myself for about 45 "You are such an asshole. I hate you"s in order to tie them up. Smitten is scary because women can be evil and ruthless if you put yourself in a position to let that happen.

Anyway, went from zero to four in a week and now have to figure out how to get it to one. I suppose the equation is relatively simple, you just minus three, but I am struggling with it today. I guess the key is to always be okay with being back at zero no matter what happens, but I swear to god this girl is so awesome I would fuck her brother if she had one. That's super scary.

Making New Friends and Influencing People

Well, it's tax season and many people are concerned with write-offs so I thought I would address it. Recently, it has become more evident than ever that I am going to have to rebuild a pretty good empire of friends that were built over an 18 year period in some cases. I have salvaged what I could, but I have not seen many friends in what is approaching a year. Some broken acquaintances have been by choice and others are a result of being excluded because people would be taken out of their comfort zone for reasons that I am a little bit more than indirectly responsible. I'm not a finger pointer, but I can't have the whole blame rest on my head. On the other hand, if I was that awesome it probably wouldn't be a problem.

So, has begun a period of rebuilding and I should be right back where I was as I approach 50. I really shouldn't let it bother me, but sometimes I miss some of those friends and while I understand, it still sucks sometimes as I try to adapt to new ones and build new quality friendships. I'm just still alittle bit stubborn about accepting the situation and I still tend to find friends that may be not of the standard that I am looking for. It feels unfair sometimes, but I don't really believe in unfair anymore. It's not a matter of fair vs. unfair. It is a matter of this is what you got, so work with it and make the best of it. The art of faking it eventually will become an art of day-to-day living.

Black Scabbath

I went to therapy for the first time in six weeks with the intention of breaking up with my therapist because I felt like I was doing better. A friend had referred to therapy as picking a scab the other night and I'm starting to believe that to be true. He was in a band with me off and on for seven or eight years and is in therapy for a similar situation to mine and we joke about how almost everyone who was in the band is in therapy now. If we ever start a new band together it would have to be called "Fourth Session" at this point. I would have to get a tattoo touched up, but then at least it would be consistent. After recent events the tattoo is more like a scar than a badge of honor. Well, it was never a badge of honor, but it was never a scar of shame and regret before.

Anyway, in the session after bleeding my inner self, filled with doubt and concern, all over the rug, it became kind of apparent that I may need more therapy. On the other hand, I was feeling a lot better when I wasn't being forced to talk about it every two weeks. It would seem that I have an old problem that could be serious that I thought I was beating. Yeah, you could chalk it up to the first holiday alone, but alcoholics are brilliant excusists in their own mind. If I don't deal with it now, there are a couple of excuses coming up in the next three months that could prove to be very dangerous to my psyche.

Meanwhile, post-therapy today, my productivity has grinded to a screeching halt and I find myself staring at a screen and nudging a friend over IM all day. It sucks. Then, I tell myself that I will just go home and get some work done, but Marissa's sister is coming back to the O.C. and I told my sister I would go to dinner with her. Apparently, she is concerned about things, too. Today is reminding me of the old days of this blog, but a little bit better. I ate lunch today and I quit Tylenol PM, so I'm still moving in the right direction, I'm just tripping on stuff here and there.

I'll recharge tonight and kick ass tomorrow and then pick up dry cleaning and stay home. That is the key for this weekend. Just stay home and be productive. Maybe visit family, but whatever I do, I do not need to go to the bars and meet people that I will not remember the next day. Here's how it works. Lonely. Go out to a bar and drink. Meet people. Talk to people for a while. Get wasted. Go black. Wake up next day and have numbers in phone without a clue of who they belong to. The driving problem is conquered at least as I don't even bring my car keys with me anymore and instead, have assigned a set of keys for drinking that consist of house key, laundry key and mail key. Seems brilliant some days and sad on other days.

Uncanny Resemblance

I hadn't posted a graphic in a while, so I pulled this out of my archive. Thought I would post it and let anyone know that I am working on splicing the DNA of a unicorn, a dog and a corndog to create the world's first Unicorndog. The body of a horse, the head of a dog and a horn of a delicious corndog. A few kinks so far in obtaining DNA from a unicorn, understanding any type of genetics as well as the difference between RNA and DNA and determining whether a corn dog has DNA at all.

Grey Stoked

I don't make resolutions. No cliches like quitting smoking, starting to work out, or quitting masturbating or anything lame like that. This year I am making an effort to make some slight adjustments. I want to learn to live in the gray area. Just exist at point zero on the number line. No love, no hate. I won't get mad at anyone or anything, but I won't like anything too much. That means no overplugging of good bands or telling anyone that anything is brilliant. I guess it's okay to feel that way about some things, but I am going to try to keep it to myself. I will never eat more than makes me full and I will not eat too little either. I won't talk too much and I won't be too quiet. No happy and no sad. I won't oversleep, but I will get at least seven hours every night. I won't call you ever again, but I won't try to not call you. I won't drink too much, but I won't quit drinking. I will clean my apartment once a week, but no more than that. I will do laundry once a week, but I will not separate the colors and wash it in warm, not hot or cold. I will watch less TV, but I will watch worse shows. I will eat one unhealthy meal a week and go to lunch when I'm at work rather than the gym. I will fuck up and do something stupid once a month. I will exist as an individual, but not be a hermit and avoid friends and family in observance of Obi-Wan weekends.