Systems Failing!

you know what i love? and i mean that in both the completely ironic sense, AND the serious and honest sense. i LOVE (leaning towards ironic...) when my coping mechanisms get in the way of my daily life, or in fact, stop working all together.

let me unpack that a little bit for you.

used to be, if i was upset about something, i would sleep. i would just fucking sleep the clock around like belle and sebastien suggest. it was a coping mechanism, and i'm sure it wasn't actually all that effective, but dammit, it allowed me to mostly function, most of the time. whatever was upsetting me hung around in the background until it got actually dealt with. whatever.

let's not get into drugs and alcohol. suffice it to say, they don't really work. and they're a lot more harmful than sleeping. in fact, after i stopped using drugs and alcohol, i went back to sleeping to deal with my cravings for them, and the mess i was in, and the mess i was. sleep, and lots of cigarettes.

another fun one, is zoning out on the internet for hours at a time. you fool yourself, because its not as passive as t.v., so you feel like you must be a step up from watching "Golden Girls" reruns. but you're not, really. i waste, fucking days of my life on this stupid machine. i check my e-mail, check my networking/dating site profiles, look up cute/interesting people, watch music videos, watch porn, read blogs, write in my blog, catch up on news, catch up on my webcomics, see what my horoscopes have to say, wikipedia a few items of interest, and then do the whole damn cycle over again. over, and over, and over again.

i'm so exhausted i forgot to change out of my house sandals before going to work this morning, and had to A. look down at my feet to figure out why they felt so different, and B. drive home and put on my work shoes and drive back so i was able to grab a register and then pour hot water on my hand, and just let it keep pouring for a few seconds before figuring out what was going on and stopping the madness. and then i charged the district manager for her drink. and failed to give anyone their pastries for thirty minutes. i think my throbbing boiled hand might have been distracting me.

i am this tired. my eyes constantly feel gritty. my feet hurt. i act like a stoned cheerleader. minus the boobies. but here i am, writing to you (and watching episodes of "Home Movies" on youtube.com) instead of sleeping.

don't get me wrong. i fucking love "Home Movies."

but i really need to be asleep three days ago now.

i just can't get it together.