The rest of Wednesday consisted of spending all afternoon in one of the saddest moods I've had in months, then spending the evening pretending that everything was fine. Until, eventually, thanks to a little kid mostly, everything was fine. What a delightful child. His mommy is kinda neat, too, for a jailer.

But eventually, the cage walls started closing in on me again, and I made a graceful escape. One made a bit less graceful because of my Blackberry. Upon leaving, I sent an email saying that I'd had an overwhelming urge to give her a foot massage. But my Blackberry, in a fit of stupididy, had interpreted my typing of the letters f-o-o-t as d-o-o-r instead.

Now, I don't really know what a door massage is. Sounds pretty kinky. But I bet I'd give a good one, and make her forget all about the dipshit.

On the way home, I stopped at Rich O's and had myself another Marzen (6101) and ordered a pizza to-go.

Got to have lunch with HatGirl today. Our lunches are always so chaotic, at least the last two have been.

HatGirl!

Yay!

Anyway, we ended up at White Castle. It was a little weird, eating there in the the middle of the day and completely sober, but the company was nice, of course. HatGirl is a genuinely good person, and to prove it, she spent an hour alternating between listening to me gripe and trying to think up reasonable excuses to explain the way I'm being treated.

After that lunch, I took another lunch and went and talked to WeirdGirl for a bit. We'd had this crazy idea in our heads, but after we talked about it for a while, we decided that it was just too crazy, and not worth the trouble it could cause. I'm relieved, I think.

I think I'd probably leave. I don't know where I'd go, or what I'd do once I got there, or whether I'd ever come back, but none of that would really matter. What would matter would be that I got away from here, from all of this. The pity. The laughter. The reminders. The ashes.

Someplace warm would be nice, I think.

Maybe it'll never come to that. Maybe I just need to have more patience.

Today I get to have lunch with HatGirl. Maybe she'll renew my faith, remind me of the value of patience.

Sometimes, I can just start typing. And then, I'll stop and decide that I've written something worthy of posting. I don't know if that's going to happen tonight, but I guess it's worth a shot. I'm in a semi-weird mood, after all.

Something happened to me, a long time ago. I really wish I knew the date, but I don't. It was a little over five years ago, when I'd just started this blog, but before I really had any purpose in mind for it. Before I really had any purpose in my life, as it turned out.

Well, on that unknown date about five years ago, even though I didn't recognize it at the time, I went and found myself a purpose. I wasn't even looking - it was thrust upon me - but I haven't been the same since. Not even close to the same.

I gave my life to that purpose, and though I've strayed from that path every now and then, I've never strayed very far. And I've always come back.

I think about these last five years, and I know that most people would tell me that I've wasted them, but that's not what I think at all. Nope, I think I wasted the nearly four decades that had passed before. There was literally nothing in my life that was worth living, until that mysterious date in 2003. But, as of that date, my worth as a person was suddenly very clear to me. My reason for being here was obvious to me. My purpose was unmistakable.

But, as sometimes happens, I fucked up. Either through bad timing or luck or fear or genetics or whatever, my reason for existing was taken from me. That's a date I fucking remember. November 9th, 2004. Almost four years ago. Everything I'd spent my life waiting for was lost on that day. Everything I was, died on that day. Everything, that is, except for one tiny spark.

And I persevered. Against all reason and logic, I kept that tiny spark of hope burning in my heart. It hasn't been easy for me, or even intentional some of the time, but I somehow managed to hold myself together. Long enough to have another chance.

I got that chance, and I'm fucking that up as well.

What am I supposed to do now?

Die?

Sometimes I hope for that.

Tonight, I sit here in my office late at night, and I try to prepare myself for the unknown that I find myself hurtling toward. I imagine the worst, and I steel myself as best as I can. I imagine the best, and I nearly weep from the joy of it.

To my detractors, I say that this time has not been wasted. Sometimes the journey really is more important than the destination. And sometimes the journey is all you get.

I forget where I was going with this entry, but I'm pretty sure that I've strayed again.

Oops.

I've had this stupid little nagging thought in my head for the past couple of days. I've had it before over the years, but I've always been able to ignore it until it went away.

This time, the damn stupid little nagging thought is being stubborn, and I'm not sure that it's going to go away. Because it might be right.

---

Today it's supposed to be really nice outside. Like 76 degrees. I'd walk to The Pub for lunch, but there's no point, because there are no beer sales until the polls close.

---

Sometimes I have to ask myself how things should proceed, if they proceed. I mean, if they're allowed to proceed to their logical conclusion, how should it happen? Slowly and deliberately, or as quickly as possible, to get the inevitable out of the way?

Sometimes it's really surreal that these aren't completely hypothetical questions.

---

Damn, I was supposed to pick up a case of Moerlein OTR when I was in Covington, but I forgot. Oh well, it's close. Maybe we can go up there together some weekend.

---

I forgot to set my clock back, so I got up an hour early this morning.

...I'm back home, and I still don't give a flying fuck.

Lot of that going around these days. Maybe it's contagious.

And another thing is that I don't care about this blog anymore. Not at the moment, anyway - my interest might eventually resurface. So the only reason I'm writing here now is so people don't think I'm dead. Like my sister today asked me if I was okay, because I'm not writing here anymore.

Today I drove to Covington, KY. Once I got here, I glared at my phone, and I had some Moerlein OTRs (360). Now I'm going to bed.

Oh yeah, I got a nice email from HatGirl.

This is going to be brief.

I just went to fark.com, and I saw a topic there.

In honor of All Souls' Day... who would you want to give your eulogy and what do you think they'd say about you?

I'd want it to be my most special friend RockGirl, absolutely zero doubt about it.

And I think she'd say something like, "Dave was one of those rare people who knew exactly what he wanted to do with his life, and even though he never got to do it, just knowing that he had a purpose and that he would spend his life trying to fulfill that purpose - it was enough to make him very special. He never wavered, not even for a second. He was my dear friend, and he will be missed."

Not that I'm planning on dying anytime soon, but it would be nice of RockGirl to acknowledge me like that.

It's like I live a secret life or something. I wonder if people are intrigued by my recent silence. It might be cool if they were.

But, as is so often the case, the truth isn't quite as interesting as people might suspect.

I get to see her almost every day, except on the days when I don't. And those latter days don't matter except to mark wasted time. And on the days when I get to see her, time always passes so quickly that I always end up feeling like I've been robbed.

So, almost every day, I get to be happy, albeit for a brief time. Then, on the rest of the days, I get to be miserable.

Usually, I think it's a pretty fair trade. And it's certainly not boring.

I remember when my life used to be boring. It sucked.

But anyway, it's not like there's anything going on between us. We continue to be lopsided. That kinda ruins the intrigue, but it's the truth anyway. I don't have to like it, but I'd like it even less if people thought something was going on when it wasn't.

I don't even know if I'm going to post this. Probably not. I'm just sitting here typing, trying to kill some time until I get to see her again. Shouldn't be too much longer, I hope.

Her kid likes me, so that's cool. But I keep trying to tell her that I'm here for her, not for her kid. That would be a real dick move, I think, winning over a kid to get closer to his mother. Maybe a lot of guys would do it, but I'm not a lot of guys.

Tomorrow I'm driving to Covington, Kentucky and spending the night. I'll be working in that area Monday. I suppose I'll have some fun, going to that one bar in Covington and drinking some OTR beer, but I won't get to see her at all tomorrow. Please reference the third paragraph above for what that means.

You know what?

I have absolutely nothing left to say.

I've said it all. Over and over and over, I've dissected myself.

My words were wasted.