Mouse on the Move

November 1, 2024

First day of NaNoWriMo. I wrote 703 words. Not bad but not my goal of 2000 a day. Still, I may write more of it later.

____________________________________________________________________________________________------

Still nothing on the job front. I'm ready to give up as always. I know I am not going to do the fleeting thought I have once in a while of caving in and applying for fast food. I just had a thought. What if the jobs I've applied to have tried to contact my old jobs or my references and gotten bad reviews or no reviews at all. I can totally see that happening. Face it. I am not qualified to work in the areas I want to, and I cannot work in the areas I am qualified for. How am I supposed to keep my hopes up?

The only calls I've gotten since I started putting my number out there for jobs is "reduce your debt", "you may qualify for up to $?????? a month", and "we can lower your monthly utility bills" (and of course the potential spam blocked by my phone).

It is all hopeless.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

I cannot do anything productive. I am coming to that conclusion. It is the harsh cruel reality of things.

How do I continue to go on? How do I feel good about myself? I don't know. Sometimes I do things just to drone away time. I keep thinking that if I keep trying, I will find something that makes me content.

That is what I have settled for: Contentment. I can't say that anything gives me happiness anymore. I haven't been able to say that for a long time. Things have just lost their power.

At least I am not thinking about dying all the time anymore. I am not constantly wondering how I could get away with hurting myself.


You know what goes synonymous with contentment? Boredom. A constant feeling of just wanting to lay down and sleep the rest of my life away.

The only thing that gives me hope is that little urge I get to go on. To get up, to move, to accomplish something.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________


Terry told me the other day that I should write my life story. I told her I can't because it is too painful.

I want all my writing around me again. I want to work on it, on all of it. I want to shut myself in my room and force myself to do something with it. I miss having everything around me. But there is no space for it.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________--

This weekend I need to clean my room. I can't find what is in here let alone what might be someplace else. I've gotten to the point where I don't remember what I put in storage and what is in here somewhere. I have to search through it all and organize it.

Right now, I need to find something better to do than drivel on in this blog.