I Think I'm Alone Now

My best friend left me today. I don't know what I'm going to do without him.

A Mixed Bag

So I found Shane again. I love the guy, but somehow he and I tend to spend nine months out of the year not talking. I guess we're weird like that. But that's irrelevant really, as he's around now. Even though we don't always get along, and most times we have almost nothing in common, he's still one of my best friends.

Speaking of best friends, two days ago Shane and I decided we'd try and hunt down some of the people we knew from grade school. Turns out we only know where three of them live. Kylee was gone on a boat trip with her boyfriend, Jason wasn't home, and LeRoy...well, LeRoy apparently moved to Texas to work on an oil rig. He's also having a baby in August. A little girl, as I understand. That's nice for him.

I just wish he'd bothered to tell me goodbye.

Oh, and I got a job. Well, I'll have one as soon as the drug test and background checks go through. I'm clean on both fronts, so that's almost a non-issue. I'm gonna be working in receiving at Wal-Mart, unloading trucks and what have you. It's gonna be hard, but it's a damn shot better than being unemployed.

Also: I added a tag to my blog settings. That should keep me from showing up in search engines. If that's how you ended up here, well, fuck. It's not that I'm saying anything of importance that I would mind too terribly if it got out (My Grandma once told me "never write anything down you don't want the whole world to read" and I took that to heart) I just don't particularly want people to google me and end up here. There's other tings to read under the name WT Harmon. Things much more interesting than this.

My Idiot Brother & Assorted Other Tales

It's been a weird couple of days. First my brother was nearly arrested when he was found to be in possession of alcohol at the lake, and failed a breathalyzer, only to respond "I didn't know I was drinking." Eesh.

Today, while I was out, two drunk guys came to the front door and began thrashing about, yelling about how my brother had beaten up one of their "homies" and that they had to "go through them next time." Then they knocked my mailbox over. Then the cops came. My brother hasn't been in a fight for several months, and he had no idea who these guys where.

Past the standard issue little brother insanity, I helped my buddy Silent John move today. He'd been living out of town, but has now returned to the land of Jayhawks and...well that's pretty much it. His couch is heavy and his wife was cranky. Their dog was cute though. It's good to see John again.

I find I'm growing increasingly bored with myself as of late. There's a saying I heard once that rings more true every day; "I would enjoy being alone more if I could tolerate my company." I rarely leave the house, and I don't talk to anyone. At least my brother has interesting adventures I can live vicariously through.

So I'm pretending this is a real blog

I know I'm just going to abandon this in a matter of weeks. It happens every time I start a blog. Twice I did it to impress a girl. Somehow, it made sense at the time.

So I think I'm going to go the "Homeless Guy Employment" rout and draw pictures of people on a streetcorner somewhere. I'll try it next saturday, I think. It'll either go pretty well, it'll fail miserably or I'll be arested for street performance without a licence. So, either or. I'm not picky.

Today...

Today I walked in on my brother having sex with his girlfriend. I used my Batman like skills to escape undetected, but now I fear I'll have nightmares for the rest of my life. Apparently he clinches his butt when he's, as he put it, "laying down the stroke." I'm sure you all wanted to hear that.

I'm gonna go pour bleach in my mind's eye now.

I post, as if anyone cares.

If you care, welcome to the first entry of my crappy blog. It's not going to be intesting, so don't bother reading.

I feel down. I don't have any reason to feel down. I have all the blessings in the world, but for the life of me I feel like crap. Just total, utter, crap. When good things happen, I worry so much about screwing it up that I screw it up. I'm constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop, and it sort of becomes a self fulfilling prophecy. I assume things will go to pot, and in turn they do.

This isn't to say I have a bad life. To say that would make me not only a liar but a shitty person. I just can't be happy with who I am, and end up depressed about what I'm not. I'm not the person I want to be. Or my mom wants me to be. Or anyone, for that matter.

Lets just call a spade a spade: I'm having a crappy day and I'm taking it out on you.

Always Believe,
Good Ol' WT