Reformed Loser

This afternoon as I was laying in bed I had that thought process where you consider the best way to kill yourself. I decided the best way would be to bind weights to myself, heave off a tall bridge, then shoot myself in the head on the way down. That way I probably would be eaten up before anyone found me, and I wouldn't have to drown. Probably. Go ahead and worry, but don't worry I'll kill myself. I won't. I've just been not real happy the past few days. It happens.
I've just recently (past couple of years) heard about the equanimity with which some people view bad times and good. Pessl says people aren't here to be happy. Happiness is a hound dog laying in the sun. That's been my life for the most part. I need a Clarence to come down and show me how much different Asheville would be if I'd never been born, but it's no fair, George Bailey saved a life when he was like eleven.
So why am I so depressed? A large factor is the number of days off I've had in a row. I get two days off a week, and it's always different. This go round I had the two last days one week followed by the first two of this week for four. That's bad because I have no discipline, and predictably I stayed up all night every night (mostly playing Deus Ex: Invisible War, upon which I was about to revise my negative opinion, but now I can't make up my mind; I doubt I'll finish it, which ranks it below Marvel: Ultimate Alliance). I told my mother that I'd visit her, but I developed car troubles, so I made an appointment at Precision Tune, which I then didn't bother to show up for. I'd gone to Wal-Mart for a Wii (another decision that I'm suddenly not sure of) at five yesterday morning, came home thinking I could get two hours sleep, next thing I know I'm laying in bed, it's one in the afternoon, and I start thinking about a bridge, cinder blocks, and a pistol. Flu-related diarrhea and body ache also contributed to my malaise.
On a positive note,

Guess that's everything.

Seriously, I did lift weights two nights over the four night depression, so that's good. I framed the Joan Jett poster, though I'm disliking the The Orange Peel placard on it. It's duct-taped on, so I thought it best to leave it. Also, the poster itself is a little wrinkled under the glass.

Good night.


This is a friend of mine whose likeness has been technologically aged.