TAUNTED BY THE TELE
Peru, Bolivia, Brazil: Latin America comes back to haunt me every night on my TV, reminding me about what I had, where I'd been, and where I am now. "That could've been me," I hear myself grumbling. "That SHOULD have been me!" But it's not. And I have to deal with that.
Distractions, there are many. Dinner at parents; The Apprentice on the tele; friends on the phone; Karen.
Before today it had been a week since I'd heard a peep out of her. So I called. Why not? She made no apologies for her absence. She'd been with her horse, relaxing, seeing her family. "No time for me," was the implication.
Just as I was building up speed, she cut me off. She was at her grandma's and had to go. She said she'd call me back later. She never did. Will I ever hear from her again? I expect she'll send me some superficial two-line text on Saturday, assuring me that she will eventually call, before eventually failing to do so. I'm not that bothered. It just means that I wasted another couple of weeks barking at the wrong bitch.
Now I'm tired: a tough workout at the gym and an early start. The days are zipping by. Pay-day comes closer, but then so does my 31st birthday. And I'm sill sitting in the same chair - on wheels, but going nowhere, except one step closer to the edge.
Peru, Bolivia, Brazil: Latin America comes back to haunt me every night on my TV, reminding me about what I had, where I'd been, and where I am now. "That could've been me," I hear myself grumbling. "That SHOULD have been me!" But it's not. And I have to deal with that.
Distractions, there are many. Dinner at parents; The Apprentice on the tele; friends on the phone; Karen.
Before today it had been a week since I'd heard a peep out of her. So I called. Why not? She made no apologies for her absence. She'd been with her horse, relaxing, seeing her family. "No time for me," was the implication.
Just as I was building up speed, she cut me off. She was at her grandma's and had to go. She said she'd call me back later. She never did. Will I ever hear from her again? I expect she'll send me some superficial two-line text on Saturday, assuring me that she will eventually call, before eventually failing to do so. I'm not that bothered. It just means that I wasted another couple of weeks barking at the wrong bitch.
Now I'm tired: a tough workout at the gym and an early start. The days are zipping by. Pay-day comes closer, but then so does my 31st birthday. And I'm sill sitting in the same chair - on wheels, but going nowhere, except one step closer to the edge.
posted by David Cohen at 5:20 pm
3 Comments:
Why thank you, Pandora. But if you're so tired of my posts you should go elsewhere. The truth is you probably love reading other people's blogs - while masking your own profile - because your own life, by comparison, is so dull that you insist on spending your time reading about other people's. Regards. DC
And there was me thinking that the quality of your critique peaked with "shut up a hole". Not quite sure which I prefer. You should get out more. Keep well. DC
Oh, and Pandora, if you forward me your address I'll send you the bleach...
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