Purgatory

It's quite in the house. I'm debating turning off the TV, but after that quite background noise, all the would be left is the hum of the computer and the slight buzz when the air condition in the suite kicks on. I leave the TV on because I need more than that. I need to hear other human voices, as distant and removed from as they are on the TV.

Last night was rough. When knocked up I got a wicked case of 'restless foot' syndrome. Shortly after having the Sea Monkey, it faded away, but ever once in a while it rears its head in my direction and simple things like working at the computer or sleeping become monster tasks that I just can't handle. It's hard to sleep when your feet want to do nothing more than move around like that stupid dancing penguin's feet in "Happy Feet." I hate it. I must be low on iron, that seems to be the only time it kicks up.

Punk Boy is sleeping. We had a little bit of a tiff - both of us are on edge and some time away from each other lead to him falling asleep early. He's sick, so his body needs the sleep to recovery. I'm glad he is in there. I checked on both him and the little one and they are both sleeping soundly. But their sleeping leads to me sitting in this strangely quiet room.

I've been thinking a lot lately, about life and love. It's this crazy cycle that moves long, no matter what you are doing in your own little world. You forget about people, you get distanced from them and just like your life, their cycle goes on with out. I sometimes wish I could hold everyone I meet close to me, so I never feel like I am neglecting them. It's funny how I used to feel the opposite, how I just wished I knew less people so I wouldn't have to deal with the stress of trying to keep up with everyone. I'm remembering today that it's a good stress and being social with all sorts of people, all kinds of friends is GOOD for you.

Inglorious Bastards just started on the Movie Channel. I'd recognize that beginning music anywhere, where the girl is running away from the house where her family was shot to death below the floor boards. It's intense - tight thundering strings, going on forever, in that constant hum. I'm to tired to watch it right now, but the noise, yes that great noise, is keeping me interested, and pulling me away from writing.

I need to get more focused on the writing. I was reading this blog the other day and realized that the last few times I posted was when I was sick. I need to make the time to write, not just do it when I'm sick and I HAVE the time. Writing is important to me, anyone who has known me for years knows that. I've been doing nothing but writing since the fourth grade. How many kids know what they want to do with the rest of their lives in the fourth grade? I did. I wanted to write. I still want to write and I still do write. I've found a different career path and you know what, that's alright. I work my mediocre job five days a week because it allows me the time and the funds to do the things I love, to spend time with my family and to keep up with my radio show, my music, my DJ'ing. Getting older, you learn to take an opportunity like a good stable job with a please and thank you. It's not so much selling out anymore as it is being responsible. And it's become so hip to be a responsible, yuppie type, hasn't it?

Not really.

I refuse and honestly, if I fall prey to yuppie-ism, please lock me up in a dark room and deprogram me.