It's been a while, I guess, since I've checked this out.  I guess it has something to do with the fact that, despite my constant hounding through this venue, I have not heard from anyone who has read my work with anything that even acknowledges they've actually read my stuff and not just accidentally clicked in the wrong spot.  It looks like I have four hundred views of my two stories, but how would I really know?

 

I'm thinking about a change.  I don't know exactly what that means, but I want to do something that will get me out of this middle-class existence that I feel is holding me back.  I'd like to move somewhere more interesting, but it seems no one wants to hire me, and I'd hate to be a drag on someone.

 

I'd like to finish my novella before I go anywhere, so that I at least have something to shop around, and it would be good to be published, somewhere, even if it is some crappy online journal edited by Ignatius J. Reilly and read only by his mother.  It's hard to turn your back on a job you love when you might, indeed, have no chance of living your dream.

 

I guess this is one last plea for anyone who has read my work to please, please tell me if I suck, or if I should keep going.

 

Life has been fairly boring recently. I thought I might be going crazy Friday night.  I spent Thursday night alone getting wasted, then spent all day Friday sitting on my porch, looking into getting my car fixed, drinking lukewarm Old Milwaukee in the hot sun, etc., before getting ready to party hardy and reconnect with people after close to twenty-four hours talking to no one who wasn't trying to sell me something.  I got no response from any friends, it began raining, and I had no car.  I guess if I would have walked to a bar it would have just been, mostly, more people trying to sell me shit, but the option I took was definately not ideal.  I drank whiskey until I couldn't think and sent a bunch of text messages to my ex-girlfriend.  It was crazy, and I wanted to immediately reconnect with someone I knew.  Still no contact from friends.  I walked around town with my shirt off hoping someone would recognize me or at least pick me up and want to fuck me.  No go.  Finally, I was able to reconnect with someone I knew and watched some T.V.  Not the best Saturday night, but better than suicide.