just ignore me…

I did not sleep much last night, maybe two hours at the most. My mind was racing, trying to remember so many things that I’ve forgotten. I can’t stop thinking about the past, the things I missed while immersed in my teenage narcissism; overreactions, shutting people out, not thinking clearly about ANYTHING.

There are other things on my mind that are more immediate: vet visits, Amazon subscriptions to cancel, that movie I forgot to return to the library, the mess in the house that needs to be cleaned. Should I buy a new car? I don’t want to spend the money, and besides that I will probably have to buy a car with an automatic transmission for Gillian because she refuses to learn to drive stick. I haven’t owned an automatic in thirty years, and it makes me sad and, yes, a little resentful that I have to spend $40K on something I really don’t want.

The daily trials and tribulations are taken over by thoughts of the past. Did I REALLY fuck things up? Did I make the wrong choice at a pivotal point in my life? I wonder how life would have turned out had I stayed in SF and stuck it out (somehow). Maybe better, maybe worse. But there was a LOT that I needed to learn the hard way first, especially when it comes to relationships. I’ve always had to learn the hard way.

The camp kids are walking by the house, on their way to the pool by the lake. I should take Gunnar to the pool, but I am technically working and the wifi by the pool is spotty at best. Another thing to add to the list: Buy a hotspot. More money to spend. I am being paid to work, but I am not actually doing any work at the moment because…well, I’m writing this aren’t I? Besides, Gunnar is still asleep. I’m sure he’ll spend his day playing VR or something.

My desk is in the attic. The attic is finished and air-conditioned, but I never go there. Why? It’s odd to have a house with spaces that go unused for a week or more. No one uses the bathroom in the back. Bedrooms go unused. An entire finished attic gathers dust. The breakfast room, or whatever you want to call it, has a table with junk piled on top. What’s the point of having a house this size? Every day I sit in the living room with my laptops surrounding me, listening to records old and new. I don’t really need much more than a kitchen, living room, bathroom and bedroom. Maybe, when I retire, I’ll sell this place and all of the bullshit it contains, and get a small bungalow with a shop in the back for the messes I make. No close neighbors, no HOA, and lots of trees and land.