My sleep schedule is changing from abnormal to too normal. I awake at 6:00 every morning, too early, and go to sleep around 10:00 in the evening, again too early. Whatever happened to that happy little medium where my waking hours are between 10:00 AM and midnight? Lately, I feel like I’ve not been able to accomplish much, because I feel as if my days are too short.
They’re too short, because no one is awake by noon. I sit at my computer, meandering in a virtual box for several hours, until I get bored with mildly interesting conversation and log off. This is my life, every day, from six to noon.
These hours are also too early to accomplish anything else. Everything in this house makes noise: creaking stairs, shaky bed, groaning computer chair, the slamming of doors. My presence and activities broadcast throughout the house. Usually, this isn’t a problem, as my mother doesn’t hear the racket and my light sleeping boyfriend isn’t here.
Maybe I’m unmotivated. Maybe I’m idle. Maybe I’m too busy with my alternate life. Maybe I’m sinner and I deserve to die.
***
I read over one of the other blogs on this site, and decided I’m so out of place here. I don’t have an exciting or very active sex life, even though I’m in a relationship. I’m at the point of satisfaction, sexually and emotionally, but it’s nothing like how wonderful I used to feel. Maybe I’m getting old, maybe I’m just disenchanted, or maybe this just isn’t right for me. I’m probably just meant to find happiness as a dirty slut whore, but I don’t want AIDS.
I don’t have AIDS, just to clarify. I’d say I’m positive I don’t have AIDS, but those words together just confuse people. There were tests, I’m negative, and that’s all that matters. I want to stay that way; well it’s more of a goal. The whole virus scares the shit out of me. Not because it means I’m going to die early, but because I’d feel ashamed, dirty, and a total disappointment to myself, friends, and family. These feelings come to me, when I learn of an infected acquaintance, friend, or ex-boyfriend that’s fallen ill.
I suppose I wouldn’t be terribly upset if I found out I was infected. I cannot really see myself living long into my 80’s, 90’s, or whatever. I’m just not planning that far and it’s just difficult to imagine myself as ancient. What will I do then? I can’t even think of what to do now.
The ex-boyfriend I hung out with today is in the same boat as I am. We’re both floating aimlessly, just weightless and floating. When we were together, it was the best of times. Socializing, trying new things, awesome sex. I’d give details about our “super fun nakey” time together, but my mind’s been a little numb when attempting to be expressive. I really hope he doesn’t read this; for if he did, then this entry may lead to the best, worst series events to transpire. That was back then and it’s not happening again. Now, I’m practically married to a nice, stable boy.
I’m restless and idle. I’m satisfied. I’m clean, but I keep dirty thoughts. I’m practically married, for better or for worse. I’m in terrible need to be more eloquent with words.
