The Dirt Field

I feel kind of over writing this blog. Maybe I’m just being an irritable shit today. Probably, actually, but I still feel like quitting anyways. Sometimes I think it would be awesome to just drop off the Internet entirely; kill my Facebook account, unsubscribe from any mass emails, stop checking blogs and websites regularly. An analog existence actually sounds refreshing a lot of the time, and it certainly would help me avoid times like Monday afternoon, where I lost several hours to pointless surfing while avoiding a ride on the trainer.

But then I’d miss the latest post on fmylife.com and then I’d probably catch fire.

I’ve been grumpy for the past few days on and off for no discernible reason. It’s annoying because I know I’m a drag to be around (I’m around myself all the time and it sucks), but I can’t change the problem if I can’t identify it. If I had to venture a guess, I would say it’s the same problem I’ve been facing for the past few months: I am discontent, dying for a change of some sort, but unable to choose a step to take in any direction. Be a pro cyclist? Go to law school? Try being a writer? Reproduce? Pierce or tattoo something?

This is probably a quarter-life crisis. It makes me want to fill my ears with cement when I realize that saying that calls to mind a John Mayer song I used to love when I enjoyed generic, boring music. When I made my mom listed to Mayer’s album back when I loved it, even she was like, “Meh. It’s boring.” I didn’t know any better at the time. Now I listen to generic, ‘trendy’ music by bands with names that start with “The” and I feel superior to my former, John Mayer-listening self.

I just choked on the gum I’m chewing while being completely sedentary in my cubicle. FML.