I don't like my circumstances at present. I am tired. I get cranky. I get weird. One by one, the reasons why I'm enjoying work seem like they're deleting themselves. I still have about ten months to go if I really want to leave.
Perhaps I just need a break; it's been a while since I had one. I filed for a week of vacation leave in mid-August. As yet, I have no idea what I'll be doing with my time. I want to invite some friends, but at the same time I would rather go somewhere or do something by myself in that span of time.
Sadness is creeping over me. Why exactly, I don't know. It just is. It's got nothing to do with love. I'm just dissatisfied and disillusioned, perhaps, with what's happening to me. I feel I should be doing something else that isn't such a waste of my youth. This was probably what my dad saw almost fifteen years ago.
The long and short of it is, all I really want to do is laugh. I want to guffaw and have it ping off the walls until my gut hurts. I'm tired of laughing and having it stop abruptly. I'm tired of being a laugh track for other people's stand-up comedy acts.
I want to meet someone who can make me---and I should really trademark this phrase because I use it so often---"stupidly happy."
That's because I want to live laughing.