Monday, December 5, 2011

A downer dog, I am

I feel positively shitty today. On a scale of 1 to 10, the scale can kiss my ass.

There's no little that's right in my life. Of course, I'm very happy with my shared spousal love. Margie's great. But so many other things are in bad shape.

We're holding out hope at starting a family, but it's not looking good. At least today it doesn't. Margie has faith, and I've had more faith lately than I'm used to having, but it's not there today. Meanwhile, younger and irresponsible people are getting pregnant and either aborting their babies or having them and not being nurturing parents. A person in the know told me that every American baby in need of a family is getting it. Is having a nine-month pregnancy so difficult that it will overcompensate for the eternal joy a baby can give an adopting couple?

I'll likely have lots of little thoughts today. It would be cool if I filled up this entry, so that it takes up an entire page and that one would have to hit the "older posts" link to see any other entries. Not that anyone's looking anyway.

And that's fine. It's actually preferable. You don't know me. Hell, nobody knows me. The number of people of which I have weekly contact is very small.

Margie. Mom and Dad. Roger, Victor and Rob from my bowling team. Karen from LTC. Kip. And that's about it. Oh, my analyst Tom.

No one asks how I'm doing. No one fucking cares. Of course my wife does, and she genuinely cares. Too often, it feels as if her and I are in a different world than the rest of the world, and that we are shadows. Are we ghosts?

I can't find a job. I happened to pick the worst employment climate for actuaries as the time I wished to become an actuary. For all I know, I've been blacklisted out of teaching, though I never received a negative report. If only I were the type that had no ego and would be willing to work at Starbucks. But nope, I think I'm this special person that has graduated from that stage of my life. Bullshit. I haven't gone anywhere. I'm retarded, and I mean that in the proper definition. I haven't grown up.

Last night, I went to a wake. Mary Ann was a cousin of my father's. She didn't have that good of a life and raised a boy that tormented her recently, including physical abuse. He's one fucked up guy, and he forced his own mother to suffer.

On the TV screen positioned in the back of the room at the funeral hall, there was a picture of Mary Ann with my father's sisters (Rita and Diane) and George and Virginia, a nice couple that married young and stayed married well into their '90s. The picture could've been taken as recently as two years. Now, only George remains. Now my uncle Bill is in bad shape and won't make it past another few months.

Everybody around my family of that generation, apart from my own parents, are dying. Both of my parents smoke and don't take to exercise. They still take care of my brother, who's autism will prevent him from ever being self-supportive. The entire world's aging and dying, and here I am, sitting and cracking my knuckles, as if I've still got time. But I have no time at all. My time has already passed to make a positive impression on the world. I'm a waste of whatever potential I thought I had.

I can't concentrate. There's always a song playing in my head. It's not the same song, like "Alfie," which sang in my dad's head for years. (That's not a bad song, by the way. I love the piano arpeggio near the end.) It's a little jukebox that I can't turn off. No wonder I have tinnitus; the music's coming out of my ears and won't stop playing.

What else sucks, let's see: well, my band's completely done, and nobody talks to each other anymore. Dave, the bass player, WAS a good friend of mine but doesn't bother contacting me anymore. I'll give him a break, as he's busy with a new job that's hellish. Still, I can't feel too bad for him. He's got a supportive wife, two lovely daughters that obey them, and he gets away with adultery on the side.

I was going to write about something really person, but I censored myself. Venting my spleen isn't helping that much.

I'm very tired of feeling sorry for myself. Would it help if I counted my blessings, the things in my life that are good?

  1. I have my health. Not that I'm perfectly healthy, but there's nothing about to shorten my life or even my enjoyment of life that's known.
  2. I live in a nice house, with plenty of room, and a great backyard with two cherry trees that nicely hold a hammock.
  3. Margie.
  4. My parents and brother are doing okay.
  5. I have an ability to make great impressions. I can be attractive at times to certain people. 
  6. Not many people can play drums and sing at the same time, and be willing to do it live in front of others. And of those people, how many can also play guitar and even write a song every now and then? Or be willing to record themselves and put them on YouTube? That's gutsy and can only be done by someone with a good amount of self-confidence, no matter how crumby and insecure he may feel at times. 
  7. I've experienced several different careers, and because of that, I have a wisdom that one-career people may not possess.
  8. Since I'm in Mensa, I must have something good between the ears.
  9. I still have my hair, though it's pretty gray on the sides, and no bald spot is present. 
  10. I come up with some pretty creative things. While it's true that I crave accolades from others and am sad if I don't get them, I'm aware of this fact and know that congratulations from others is not as important as fulfilling my own ability and taking pride in what I achieve.
  11. At times, I have a quick wit and can make others laugh.
  12. For someone that doesn't exercise much, I appear to be strong. 
  13. I was able to teach myself Financial Math to the point of passing an actuarial exam, all with no human interaction. Just a book, an on-line question bank, and my own determination, intelligence and fortitude. (I may have done the same with Life Contingency Models, but we have to wait another month on that one.
  14. I'm selfless to a certain extent. I enjoy helping others.
  15. I find myself looking out for those who are disadvantaged. 
Well, I wanted to get to 20, but 15's not bad. After doing a little job-hunting and productive brainstorming on the job hunt, I have another.

16.  I have the power to change my emotions, from negative to positive.

Why I'd want to go the other way is beyond me, but I do it anyway. A lot. 

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