Ever wish you could just shut your brain off? That it came with a switch? Or an easy button?

My head is a tumultuous place. A crossroad of thought and worry with traffic at a standstill. Over the years, it’s gotten progressively worse. I suppose that happens when you haven’t learned the proper skills and techniques to let bygones be bygones. I’m not good at letting the past go. I never have been. If you could picture something – anything – in constant motion, that’s the equivalent to what my thought pattern is like.

Scatterbrained.

That’s a good way to describe me. It’s annoying, to put it mildly. When there are 20 thoughts fighting for recognition, it makes for a myriad of complication. One second I’m delighted by good news, the next I’m almost in tears over something else, a moment later I’m pissed off I’ve let my emotions get the best of me and in between there are pop-up thoughts about something I did 10 years ago that still embarrasses me today.

Around and around and around it goes.

Every move that I make is preceded and followed by a swarm of feelings from anxiousness to excitement to fear to exhilaration and everything in between. I tell myself that a healthier diet and a normal exercise routine will help keep things in check. That doing things that my body really needs will make all the difference in the world. And truthfully? It will. I know because I’ve done it before.

But then I really want that McDonald’s that I know I’m not even supposed to look at. I want that chocolate chip cookie…. or six. I want to drink the heavy beer, because the light stuff is akin to drinking piss. I want the pizza and the candy bars and the shit I shouldn’t be eating. I want to lie in bed or sit in front of the computer and be a vegetable. I don’t want to deal with society in any way, shape, or form. I want to disengage myself from everything and everyone. I want to hole myself up and be a fat slob and not give two flying fucks what anybody’s got to say about it.

Then I remember that I have to go to work because I have to be a grown up and pay bills. Nevermind that I’ve racked up enough debt to make me so overwhelmed that I combat the feeling by spending more money. Yeah, yeah. I shouldn’t complain if I can’t keep a tighter lid on my cash. Well, screw you and your judgment. I know what I’ve done to my finances is pretty fucked up. Trust me, no one is more aware of it than me. Oh, and the guilt? It’s not pretty. Apparently, it’s also not enough for me to get my shit together.

Or maybe I’m finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel and just can’t find a way to make that one last stretch?

Regardless, the cacophony of thought is mind numbing.

If I’m not thinking about how much I loathe my job, I’m thinking about the financial shit storm I’m in or the 10 15 pounds I’ve gained or how I can’t fit into my pants anymore or how I’m extremely lonely more often than not or that I’m 26 and just had to move back in with my mom or how paranoid I am for constantly thinking I’m getting fired tomorrow or how I’m hating that I’ve been left to fend for myself at the job or how I’d like to sucker punch a few of my co-workers that just don’t know when to shut the fuck up or how I miss my brother profusely or how I screwed something up – again – or how I made a complete fool of myself by saying something wrong or how embarrassed I am for being a complete retard in front of a crush or how I should disconnect myself from Myspace and Facebook and blogging and the internet because it’s become exhausting or why anyone reads half the drivel I post when it’s all pure crap or or or..

The list goes on for days.

Right now, I’m drained. I may seem strong, but all I really want to do is crawl under my covers and not move. I want to shut the world out until it gives me what I want in a shiny hand basket covered in pretty rose-colored flowers. I wish I could say this just came up or that it is fleeting, but it’s been a constant struggle for more years than I can remember.

I’m exhausted. I miss the days when I was full of optimistic cheer. I miss simpler times. I miss being financially stable and I miss living life on a whim.

All these responsibilities and bills and memorization games and keeping in touch and getting work done and maintaining positive relationships is a hell of a lot harder to maintain than I care to admit.

Then I remember that half the world, if not more, have actual problems like no running water, no jobs, no safety and no stability and I just end up feeling like the douchiest of douches.

And then I’m back at square one.

I know, I know. Y’all have probably got your eyes full of V-Day posts so I’ll keep this short and simple.

Thank you for stopping by my corner. Thank you for making me smile. Thank you for giving me something to do while at work. Thank you for being you.

You rock.

I’m now crawling into bed because the flu has officially taken over my body.

But before I go, I’d like to ask the following:
How’s your day going? Do you have plans? Do you hate this holiday? Do you love it? Spill! Inquiring minds want to know.

Know what sucks the hardest about social networking sites?

You can’t escape those numbnuts you want nothing more to do with.

I’m sure we’ve all had our fare share of fall outs. Not every friendship or relationship is going to last. The beauty of such an occasion, though, is the domino affect (effect?) it has on others involved. It’s like a bitter divorce when you think about it.

For example, I told HazelEyes to stick it just over a year ago. Well, with distancing myself from him, his child and his baby’s mother I had to go to extreme measures in cutting ties with a bunch of other folks too. I’m talking a group of 20 people and it was not easy. It wasn’t their fault that I’d been through the ringer with HazelEyes for a freaking decade. It really wasn’t. But they would NOT shut up about him, or the baby, or the girlfriend and it drove me up a wall.

Anyway, it just fucking bites hairy donkey balls when someone you did remain friends with has 60 katrillion pictures up of those folks you are no longer dealing with. Or if they’re in your friend’s top 1,276,458. Or if those people have left comments. Or or or or.

And of course, like an idiot, I go clicky click on the pictures. Why? Because I’m a friggin’ masochist.

Right now? I hate myspace.

I hate it.

It’s not just HazelEyes who I keep stumbling across, but his sister too, AND my ex-roommate and a bajillion other folks I wish I could completely wash my hands of.

Fuckin’ eh.

Sometimes I wish that the internet wasn’t so synonymous with the computer. I have no self control. None. Even today I told myself, “no blogging/facebooking/myspacing until 80% of your work is complete.”

Am I listening to myself?

Of course not.

I seriously need a vacation from all things technological. No computer. No cell phone. No internets. Just some good music, the open road and some fresh air.

Who’s with me?

South Beach Skin Solutions
From site: Discoloration of the anal, vaginal, genital and other intimate areas can be caused by aging, hormonal changes from pregnancy and other changes in your body. However, there wasn’t a consumer product truly suitable for use in these sensitive intimate areas. Until now!

It never ceases to amaze me what kind of lame ass marketing scheme people will come up with. It wouldn’t surprise me one bit if that was re-packaged cocoa butter.

And seriously?

If you can’t handle the color of your kooter, I suggest you go to a doctor that’ll knock some sense into you. Or use some of that latex paint and make it purty.

Could somebody please tell me something about this?? Why? How? What for?! A joke, right? It’s gotta be a joke. I hope?

In case you’re curious, that’s definitely John Mayer in all his “Neon” glory. I nabbed the picture from Oh Hell Nawl because.. well.. just look at it!

I can’t tell whether I should laugh (a lot), cringe, or be completely ashamed for wanting to tear that sucker off and take him down my throat right there, in front of everybody.

What?

I can’t stop staring at the bulge! I’m trying! But it’s not working! Because I’m still a prepubescent teenager who gets the giggles over shit like this. And horny? Apparently? That neon thing is horrible but John’s hot and he’s PACKING HEAT!

Gah! I’m hopeless.