I’ve been told by my parents that I’ve been spending too much time on the computer. (Seeing as I’m supposed to be running the house and all.) I thought that I was sharing power with my sister, but it seems that I was wrong. As a result, I shall only be using the computer before breakfast, my time.
I was also basically told that my writing is a waste of time, at this time. Seeing as I had just hit a rather large hunk of writer’s block, that works out well.
(note to readers; here is where I stopped trying to be stoic and began to rant.)
I shall instead by doing laundry and baking bread and all that lovely domestic stuff, and not the things which makes me want to get up in the morning.
This was sparked by my parents calling every hour yesterday, and finding my sister (who is 16) in tears every time. I was at work, damn it. If I was here, I would have taken over, and things wouldn’t have gotten that bad. I can keep control, even when I’m on the computer, and I’m not that oblivious that I don’t notice mass hysteria.
I WAS NOT HERE. I was not- on the computer. I WAS ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THIS DAMN TOWN.
What really hurts is that I can very well see where my parents are coming from, and it isn’t very good for them to be 3,000 miles away and worrying about the little ones at home. But this pleasant little ban makes me want to cry. And I got 9 hours of sleep last night. It’s not that I’m just emotional since I’m tired.
Of course my dad noticed my voice go dangerous when he was telling me this, and he told be not to take my anger out on the little ones, so I have to watch that. Since I am totally a raving maniac when I am mad. Oh, and I’ll let you figure out for yourselves if there’s any sarcasm on that last statement.
And he also said that my friends would understand if I didn’t get the story done on the month. Because I only write for the sake of my friends.
And then, in a charming last touch, he said that I would get the time back. I said I wouldn’t. (I’ve got two blessed full-time jobs for the summer.) I said, specifically, in a poor choice of words, that “time lost is not regained.” *facepalm* He said he wasn’t interested in a philosophical discussion.
Why do I fail at life? Why? Why do I always and always say the wrong thing, push the wrong button, put my foot in the wrong place? Why?
Some times it really sucks to have to be an adult. You have to keep going, even when there is a startling lack of things to keep going for. A remarkable lack of things that fall under the classification of “utility” (more pleasure and the absence of pain). Instead, you have to fall in line with the Kantian ethics of Duty, and what ought to be done.
No, the news is not all bad. My little brother is renting Batman Begins, and we’re going to watch that tonight. And, I finished The Owl Service, which was a creepy but good book. And I did well at work, and enjoyed drive-thru.
And I talk to so few people that I was keeping a list (on a post-it note) of the conversations I had over the past three days. The note was only half full, and I was using my big handwriting. The best conversation? A 33 line IM chat with Peter about doing shots of Tabasco sauce and the proper use of the term m’lover.
How pathetic is my life that most of my social interaction, the stuff which keeps me out of a death spiral, actually takes place on the computer? But that’s going to change, somehow.
I love my family dearly. I can’t see myself at this time leaving them. (I’d need money which I don’t have for that anyhow.) I believe that God wants me to be here. But actually living with them, in this small town, feels like it’s draining the joy right out of me.
Seriously. I’m reverting to what I was like before Augustine, but worse. Now I have all these fascinating things in my head to talk about, which I can’t talk on because no one is interested. And I knew before that people liked to have friends, but I didn’t really know what it was like to have people who you could talk to. Who you didn’t feel left out when around them. Who you simply liked to be near. Who you didn’t feel responsible for, but you did things together. People who were like you and who liked you. Now I know what I’m missing, and it’s a bit harder.
And I can’t live in the future, where I’ve friends I can talk to, and I can write and code if I want to, and I have a job I don’t have to rewire my brain to deal with. I’ve tried to live in the future, always planning and fantasizing about what will be, and of course it doesn’t do good things for me. I have to live in the here and now. I have to.
I have to get off the computer. Say goodbye, Jasmine. *waves to the computer*