Pardon this Entry

I’m not feeling happy or hopeful right now. Maybe I’m just tired.

My job isn’t thrilling me yet. I don’t know — I’ll see how things go.

I’m bored right now, and I’m tired. I have a few hours before I go to bed and I don’t know what to do.

My refrigerator is empty, except for condiments. For some reason I don’t feel like going grocery shopping. I have this weird thing about groceries. I don’t want to fill my fridge because I don’t really like to cook, especially for one. Actually, I don’t really know how to cook. And I don’t feel like cooking here. I feel like having a different apartment. From my kitchen I can hear all the noisy neighbors outside.

Plus, the two closest places aren’t really supermarkets — they’re just dinky little grocery stores. And I’d have to walk there, so I’d only be able to buy what I could carry. And there’s really nothing I feel like making right now.

I talked with my therapist tonight about feeling very self-centered lately. All this trauma everywhere, and my friend has died, and I’m feeling self-centered. I don’t really want to go into it, but all this self-centeredness and all this self-worrying prevents me from being generous to myself and to others. I feel like I want to give more to other people. This doesn’t have to do with the recent disaster — I’ve always been deficient in that department.

Anyway, on Saturday night we were sitting around playing cards. Actually, I wasn’t playing anymore — I was just watching. There were six of us, and only four people can play spades, and someone else was keeping score. That gave me a chance to read a letter that one of our friends — stuck in France — had sent to Doug’s parents about his deep friendship with Doug.

I then started feeling down, because I realized that I’ve never been one of the central members of our group. We’re all close, but some have been closer than others. That includes Doug and two or three of the other guys.

So I was feeling annoyed at myself and all low self-esteemy, and I didn’t want to tell anyone about it, because, this weekend was supposed to be about Doug. So I went outside and took a walk under the stars.

I started to feel like a totally insensitive guy, because here I was supposed to be grieving Doug and yet what was I doing? Thinking about myself, again.

If I didn’t worry so much about myself, I could devote more energy to others.

Anyway, speaking of my social attractiveness, I seem to have fallen out of the gay NYC blogger clique as well. This is evidenced by the fact that nobody ever calls me and lets me know that Jonno’s in town or asks if I’d like to get together or whatever. Instead they get together without me. I guess I just don’t click with them. That’s unfortunate. I guess I’m kind of boring and/or unsophisticated, but I didn’t think I was that boring and/or unsophisticated. But I suppose it’s true — I’m not East Villagey enough.

I still don’t really know what I did to warrant this invisibility, but, hey, I guess life goes on.

Sorry for the bitterness. I’m tired and my job isn’t very thrilling, and I don’t feel up to writing my usual self-analysis right now. The thoughts are in my head, but I just don’t feel like putting it into words right now. Good night.
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