March 15, 2016 § Leave a comment
The older I get, the less I give a fuck. And I’m not sure if this should concern me. But it doesn’t. Naturally. This week I’ll work two days, spend a couple days drinking during St. Patrick’s day in Savannah, then drinking/smoking in Raleigh and Boone.
I feel as if I’m on the precipice of some momentous change and my life is building up toward it. The year 2015 felt like a stand still. I felt like I was running in place. The frustration that I felt resulted in the inevitable changes clearly documented in the blog posts over the past few months.
I met Larissa in 2016. I believe we were destined to meet. But I’m not convinced that our relationship will result in a positive outcome. We’re both crazy. She has a thing for tall white guys with beards. I have a thing for latin women with big butts. We like to drink and smoke and have a good time. We both really like sex. She likes that I’m not stable. She likes that I’m weird and irrational and an idiot. She’s at a phase of her life where everything about me that should be a red flag looks like a green light.
I love her. Deeply.
I feel like I’m living two very different lives and it can be awkward trying to balance them. My personal life is consumed with alcohol, sex, and weed. My professional life is obviously none of that. And I have no problem keeping the two separate. But I’m quickly reaching a point where I can’t justify taking 12 hour breaks from the fun of my personal life so I can sit at a desk and be overpaid to do what essentially anyone with a high school diploma could do. I want to travel. Get out there. Meet people, see shit.
I appreciate the money, security, and experience this job provides. Eventually I’ll decide to settle down and have a family. God willing, that won’t be for quite some time. This job is building a good foundation for the career that would allow that. But the more I think about it, is that really what I want? I can have a family and live relatively comfortably without working in a corporate setting. Sure, I wouldn’t be able to afford as much. And my kids would feel some of the same pressure I felt growing up in poverty. But in a way I think that’s important. Genuine problems give you flavor. Sterile environments make for boring people. And thus we have a good chunk of white, middle class America; boring.
I’m listening to The Doors self titled album (1967) and it feels right. I’m not sure if I know where I’ll be in a year, but the way the music vibes and moves mirrors my life.