As I am typing this, it has been just over four hours since I started installing some Black Friday purchases that my parents made. A computer and a new TV. The computer is for my mom, the TV is for me. I thought the TV would be easiest to install, but I was wrong. And so I sit here waiting on a missing keyboard that my parents didn't get upon the computer purchase, as well as for ComCast to sync up my DTA after activating it. A break in an otherwise day of "meh."
Mom came in while I was typing that paragraph and was asking about the TV. It works, but the cable doesn't right now. My dog is sneezing every so often, but has finally found a spot where there isn't dust floating around to lay down and stare at me while I type this entry in on my Mac.
So where are my thoughts right now? After all, it's a clear sign now that I only use this blog now when things really bother me and I need a format where I can vent to everyone and no one at the same time. I mean, you have to have that kind of outlet before something goes horribly wrong, right?
Well, things have gone horribly wrong. Ever since I quit the only job I was able to find in the past year that would allow me to get pass the interview stage, I've been a broken good. I wake up, I don't feel the need to do anything these days, I half-ass what I need to get done, and then do whatever it is that I have to do when it happens. Much like today where I woke up, took the dogs out, answered the phone when my Mom called asking how good or bad the computer she was about to buy would be, and then set up all the new toys in their respective places. The main goal of finding a job these past several months has been thrown onto the back burner, because, let's face it, if I'm not working now, I'm not going to until the holidays are over.
I've ended up in a place of complacency. A dead zone, if you will, where enthusiasm and hope carry as much weight as despair and sadness. A place where grey is every color in the spectrum, which is both exciting and boring. I no longer make plans. I no longer have any goals. I just do what I need to, and I'm not even doing a good job of that.
The hair is gone, having cut off my third ponytail in the summer, and so is my pride and confidence. An ironic version of a Samson perhaps, but I can't really place it for certain.
The art still happens, though in my opinion, it isn't all that impressive. I'm in the middle of a 30 Day challenge that I set up for myself, and I'm not enjoying it at all. Then again, I'm not suppose to since it is an introverted kind of project to help me find myself. I seem to be still on that journey, doesn't it?
And yet my immediate thought, the one thing that is bugging me right now, is that I have way too much shit. I have clothes I don't wear, most of which I'm pretty sure won't fit me even now that I've dropped 20 lbs. due to stress and under-eating. I have a PlayStation that may or may not work. I have a SNES that doesn't work, and a SegaCDX that has shredded wires. There are boxes with who knows what in them, as well as boxes with items I haven't looked at in years. I'm not even sure how much of this stuff is actually mine! All I know is that I have too much of it.
And I've been longing for a purge of some sort.
I've been playing a lot of The Sims 3 lately, and I always have neat rooms with not a lot of extra stuff to start off with. Over time, I'll gain trophies and other knick-knacks from various events, but never to the amount that I do in real life. When that happens, I'm able to purge everything I picked up for a small profit.
Unfortunately, I can't really do that in real life. The depreciation value of everything I need to get rid of is pathetic. To get a profit off of it, I'd have to have something extremely rare and in good working order. I doubt that given how much dust has collected on top of the shelves. Hell, while cleaning up, I discovered that leather can turn into breakable plastic in my room and had to trash a small souvenir from my childhood. But it is very much pathetic of me to keep clothing that I don't wear. Or for that matter toys that I don't even play with and just display them because of some psychological want to stay a child and worry free. Then again, I counted close to six different kinds of back-packs just now glancing around my room.
What I would love to do is this: I'd love to go through every inch of this room section by section and throw out whatever i find that I don't think is important. Art tools I no longer use and have no desire of using again, binders and paper that is just taking up space for no reason, projects that don't give me any sense of pride when I look at them, excessive clothing that hasn't been worn since I got the damn thing, and so on. If it's important to me, I'll keep it. But if it isn't, I don't care what happens to it. Hell, I have a printer from the early 90s when computers were starting to be common household objects!! Why haven't I gotten rid of that yet?! And don't get me started on the collection of VHS tapes that I can no longer view because the VCR that's in here no longer works.
But you know what's most likely going to happen? Nothing. After all, I'm typing this blog entry while I've been sitting here waiting for the damn DTA's light to stop blinking.
