An Expansion On My Crash

So, early this morning I woke up from a nightmare. Not so unusual for me, this is a bit early for my annual run of them but, well you never know. Of course the fact that this was a nightmare about being trapped somewhere by a guy called James who looked a whole lot like Gary Oldman and my first blurry thoughts were about trying to get on an elevated train led me to wonder exactly how much I want to be my obsessive, friendless and possibly slightly aspergic, but nevertheless successful author character…

Well I suppose being trapped in a house in Chicago would at least leave me with money, a physicality which I am somewhat lacking in being this feckless, social, slightly aspergic, unsuccessful author. I was going through my Japanese paperwork today in an effort to try and get my bedroom into a state usable by Last NS who is comeing to stay for a couple of days. (Bamboo Gardens – tomorrow afternoon).

Generally speaking I’m happy with most parts of my life. Its just that the things that I’ve been trying to get since I got back from Japan (a job, a publishing contract) are still not in it. In Japan I had my own flat, my own job…it was good. Here I’m still snogging Freshers (well ok, just the one so far but given I practically lapdanced him as well as snogging his face off…), hanging out and generally not doing all the things I had planned to do because my life is on hold because I can’t persuade anyone to employ me.

Everything about my life is so disorganised and I’m stuck feeling things that people find unwelcome and disturbing and completely unable to do anything because I’m so far on hold I haven’t got a clue what to do about…oh pretty much anything. I’m just stood here taking it, because I’ve lost any sense of direction I ever had, just waiting,waiting,waiting for someone else, some employer to give me permission to get on with things. Trapped because I have no money and no control over my life due to that lack of funds.

I’m just feeling particularly worthless right now. From the age of eleven to twenty-three I was employed and for the past three years I’ve been judged unworthy of employment, totally useless despite my qualifications. I still don’t know what’s wrong with me but the fact that I’m seeing a hand-to-mouth existence without friends in Chicago as being somehow a better deal than I’ve got here has me worried.

Kissing and hugging and all other temporary solutions would be welcomed at the pub tonight, people who I love get first dibs since I prefer kissing them followed by people I actually know.