My life be's a mess

I have serious quality of life issues. Now, I realize this post goes against all previous posts in tone and content. Live with it, people. You are mere pawns addicted to the chafing genius of my mind and thus obligated to ingest every humble word falling from my invaluable lips. Read on.

I have fallen into a mode of living that is not living but rather existing. I have lost my way, my connection to what brings meaning to my life. My problem is one of a spoiled child who will only eat dinner if he can get his figgy pudding for dessert and without his figgy pudding will eat nothing at all. I am that spoiled child. My problem is that I can only envision living life a certain way. I put all my happiness eggs in that basket. Now, someone has gone and moved the damn basket and I'm left struggling to find my happiness eggs.

I get up and take a shower. I wake up the girls and sit on the couch listening to news whilst I apply my daily deceptive mask eradicating all vestiges of my ugliness. I listen to music on the way to work to completely erase any possibility of thought. I focus on the mindlessness of my job to keep myself from thinking any higher thoughts. After work I listen to music on the way home to numb my mind to the possibilities of happiness and fulfillment that may be a part of the human existence. Upon arriving home I am usually not in a numb enough state so I usually watch TV to avoid any human interaction of any kind and complete the eradication of higher thought until I fall into a bliss-free slumber. The next morning, I take a shower. Or not. Depends.

I get this feeling I might be missing something. Like life.

Now, before you beseige me with well-intentioned advice about A.) counting your blessings and appreciating what life has to offer now and B.) going for what you want in life, understand that I have actually lost touch with what it was about life that I used to enjoy. Or, rather, contemplating what I used to do for fun no longer inspires me to exert the effort required to do it. Watching a good movie? uhmf. Going out? uhmf. Doing something fun? uhmf. I swim in the fetid tank of my own despair and despondency, longing for the life that others take for granted.

So, I've decided to do something about it. I hate my job and am busily working at finding another. One that fits. One I could ride my bike to. And one that pays enough to live on. I'm starting a card shark night at my house every week. Cards, food and maybe even a little tipple here and there. I'm going to start volunteering for shut-ins. Playing Mah Jong or listening to stories about the good old days. Counting stitches. Whatever. I really feel for those people. And I'm going to get another bike come hell or high water and I'm going to ride everyday. I miss it like sex and bacon and Cherry Garcia icecream and having spending money. At least with the bike it won't hurt me, won't get me pregnant and will only improve my health.

And give me that figgy pudding!