Josh And Depression Vs. The World: Day 65
I spent the morning chastising myself for not having a game plan when it comes to my career. I had a game plan, but that’s fallen by the wayside. I should be generating online content on a daily basis – I should be making funny YouTube videos in which I go around planking girls on Hollywood Blvd while looking sexy. But that doesn’t interest me.
The advantage of being single is that, when I am alone, I don’t have to lie. It’s such a relief. When I’m around people, I’m always lying. Lying about being interested, lying about being cordial. But when I’m alone, I can be the spoiled self-centered crybaby I’ve always been.
How am I already exhausted? I haven’t done anything today. Well, that’s not true. I’ve done a lot of worrying and regretting. That really takes the energy out of me.
And don’t even get me started on the food situation. I don’t have much of an appetite lately. That’s the advantage of depression – when I get depressed, I lose my appetite. I’m thinking of writing a dieting book called “Why Even Bother?” And/or a take off of “Eat, Pray, Love” entitled “Snack, Obsess, Resent.”
I’m also in a “nothing I’m doing is good enough” frame of mind. Is that true? Am I just being too hard on myself? No, I’m pretty right on. I don’t think I’m totally incompetent, but at the same time, I don’t feel particularly great. But what do I do to become great? How do I get better? The harder I try to get better, the worse I get. So then, the only way to get better is to abandon even trying to get better. Perhaps, the only way to get better is to try to get worse. Ok, – here are a series of the worst jokes I can come up with – and they are the worst because there aren’t even punch lines.
Community banks – am I right, ladies?
2) what’s the deal with the total indifference and/or cruel intentions of God?
3) I don’t think that tree likes me.
Now I’m just trying to be silly – and I loathe silliness lately.
I’m tired of being tired -and it’s only going to get worse – the older I get, the more tired I will get, until death descends. And then, theoretically, I won’t have any more problems. I’m having a brain fart – is it “any more problems” or “anymore problems.” I just googled it – it’s “any more” problems. Glad I solved that mystery.
This downward spiral is irrelevant. I’m going to keep writing, regardless of whether or not there’s any hope that any of this will ever be appealing to people to the extent that I’ll be able to make a living off of it.
All I want right now is sugar. So that’s how I’m doing.