No One Teaches You How To Fly

Life ain't all fucking and sunshine kiddies. No it ain't.

I just want to point out that my previous entry consisted of me inadvertently copping to my suicidal tendencies, telling a story about turning down a handjob, and revealing that I totally shit my pants. That's what I call a banner fucking entry. If I can talk about those things with little or no shame then I am certain I can talk about damn near anything.

Whether or not I should is another matter altogether. But let's remember who we're talking about here.

But seriously...hung out with the Rookie last night and watched the game. Turned out to be a great game and even though I ate a bunch of shit that I shouldn't have eaten and didn't really care who won one war or the other it was a lot of fun. The Rookie and I also made a deal, in return for getting him out of school tommorrow, a small monetary payment, and the promise that I'll let my hair grow longer he's going to let me shave his head tomorrow. He gave his word...so it should happen. But of course it won't.

I really wanted to get back on the treadmill last night but it didn't happen. Friday I got about three miles in, Saturday I felt like death so I wasn't on at all. Thing is I got a cut on the very bottom of my left foot on Thursday, so Friday morning I was favoring my right side while walking. By the time I was done my right leg was starting to hurt. So all weekend I've been swapping back and forth depending on which was bothering me worse, the cut on my left foot or the soreness on my right side. And although the soreness has cleared up now my left knee is a bit off and I still have that cut on my foot. So now I don't know what I'm doing as far as exercise today either. Really sucks because I felt like I was doing really good last week.

Been signing some papers lately. At some point in the next several days my father will become "officially" retired, I'll "officially" own part of the company, and I'll be "promoted" from my current position of VP to President. What that really means is absolutely fuck all nothing. I won't get anymore money, probably better off that way. My father will still be around as much as always. And I'll continue to run things like I have been for the past five years. So yeah, great. Everything changes but nothing changes. I've also officially become the executor and trustee of the estate. Originally he was going to put my brother in charge of everything, but then he realized if he did that he might as well just burn the place to the ground so he put me in charge instead. Sort of smart if you ask me. Not that anyone ever does.

In other news that's probably as dull and uninteresting as this entire entry has been. I've got not a fucking clue what's going on for tonight, I'm either working till the sun comes up, hanging out with the Antioch kids, or drinking till I'm almost wobbly and then attempting to replicate Nikola Tesla's experiments in polyphase power distribution using chewing gum, a nine volt battery, and a Furby. I still don't know what the plans are for this weekend in regards to NYCC. The guys wanted to go in costume, but I have no idea if they're all set up or not. I also don't know what their schedules are. And I also don't know if they even still want to go. If not I'm stuck with $200 in weekend passes I won't be using which would really suck balls since I'm damn near achieving my goal of being totally broke. People always find those stories about people who make a ton of money and die piss poor sad, but I like them. I like to think it means that those motherfuckers had a blast before they went. If I could spend or give away every penny I have in a way that makes me or the people around me happy while I'm kicking then I could take dying penniless in a cardboard box somewhere. Not too worried about that though. Not yet anyhow.

So right now I've got a assload of work I've been putting off all day. Have to stretch my leg out a bit see if I can't shake off some of this soreness and I need to make it to the bank so I have more then $3 in my pocket if I go out tonight.

I'm still smiling from this weekend, but the more I think about it the more it makes me wonder. I'm a total fucking waste, but I really should be more of a mess than I am at this point. I'm 28 years old, got nothing going for me, and still seem to be loving just about every second of this unholy assfuck that I call my life. I just don't know, I just don't know.

Life aint' all fucking and sunshine. But it sure as hell would be nice if at least some of it was.