Feelings are so subjective. Today I feel fine. Today I felt not so fine. Today I did not feel felt.
I’ve been trying to write in my journal every day (failing), and also trying to blog more frequently, without resorting to blogging about the things I’m journaling about. The journal is for how I felt today, the blog is for what those feelings meant in the grand scheme of the universe.
The blog is suffering — I feel a lot more than I ponder the universe, apparently.
I’ve been playing a lot of games. And I like games quite a bit. In fact, I was in a house yesterday with literally thousands of games in the basement. It was a shit ton of games. We played three or four of them, and then I went to a party where I was the oldest person there. Actually, I’m not sure, there may have been one guy older than me, but certainly the average age of people in attendance was much lower than mine. I felt old, and also far too sober. (I was driving.)
Point? Oh yes, the point was going to be that I feel the occasional pang of jealousy that I am not as “social” as other people. I don’t “go out” all that often, and I don’t meet new people all that often either. But I guess one doesn’t always mean the other, so I don’t even know if this is what I mean to say. This clearly has something to do with my pathetic obsession with okcupid. Pathetic because I am not single, I am not desperately seeking susan… and yet I check this stupid website at least every other day, not to answer inane questions about my personal romantic preferences, but because I hope that someone I know (or better yet don’t know) will have sent me a message.
I probably have issues.
I’m trying to come to terms with the fact that Laura is going to be out of town for something like a month starting less than a month from now. I’m trying to consider what I’m going to do while she’s away. I’m trying to consider what I’m not going to do while she’s away, and one of the things I’m not going to do is be all pathetic and lonely about spending time by myself. Or rather, that’s one of the things I’m going to spend a considerable amount of time trying to pretend I’m not doing. Probably.