I think this one will happen as my day goes along.
I’m a little surprised I’m writing anything at all right now. All of my residents are moving in and I’m dressed in my little polo with my little name tag. How cute.
So they day came and went and now it is the next one. It rained yesterday. My air conditioner has become broken. I put in the work order for it. We’ll see what happens.
I’ve been actually successful with quitting smoking. I’ve had no more than four a day for the past week. I’m shocked too. But I suppose it’s easy when I have so much other shit to do. Which I do. Classes start tomorrow. I don’t even know what my schedule is. I have scripts to start reading. I have programs to plan. I have this and I have that.
I should have asked for her number, but I didn’t know how. Besides, it’s been awhile since I last tried to talk, let alone flirt with a girl. But she seems so sweet. She seems like the kind of girl that I’ve needed all of this time and just didn’t find, be it out of stupidity or blindness. Then again, I may not deserve a nice girl. Maybe I blew too many chances. Maybe I make too many stupid decisions. I know I make too many stupid decisions. Such is life.
I guess it is dying though. I still keep the picture. I still hope for the chance but I feel it will fade into nothing. It’s only natural. It would have been nice, but I’ve already said that too many times already. I’ve said too many things. I’ve said too much and done too little. I will do more. I do have a lot to do. So let me talk about it some more before I actually do anything.
But isn’t this reserved for complaints? But what if I don’t have any? I can’t say I really do. Life is good. At the very least, it’s not bad. The sun is shining as it sets. The clouds look as though they were painted on. I have a rather nice view from my window, but I think I’ve already mentioned that. Blah blah, blah blah blah blah blah. Isn’t that all it ever is? Is there anything more? Is there more than what we can see? Is there some sort of deeper emotion or feeling that I just don’t know, that I just don’t understand? Will I ever? Will any of us? Will you? Will you have any answers? Do you even have any questions? I do. I just don’t know what they are. So that only creates more questions, right? I mean, look at all of these question marks. Do I even know anything? Is anything I know even real? Is any of it real? Are you? Am I? It’s all relative and makes no sense and makes me mad and sad and I just don’t know.
But I’m not really mad. Nor am I really sad. Nor am I really happy. I just am, and I suppose that’s all I’ll ever be. What more could I ask for? Nothing, I suppose.