Maybe it was that tiktok I saw the other day. Or the new year that threatens to rear its ugly head. But I was reminded of how, for years of hiding away during the height of the pandemic, I would wake up feeling absolutely miserable. And I would look in the mirror, only to be greeted by a bright, shining, youthful face. And I began to despise it. But over that year or two, I think I managed to age myself significantly through my drinking, because eventually, I looked in the mirror and felt like it matched better with how I felt. I no longer resented it.
How stupid and self-destructive. Now I resent the loss of my youth. There is no winning with this brain of mine.
Anger. Anger is what I continue to feel. I used to go out and yell at God when I felt this way. I guess I still can, but it feels kind of rude since I speak to Him so infrequently these days, years.
Years of working hard, investing in the ability to help the less fortunate in the future, tearful nights recognizing how my energy and talents could be so much better used in another context. And now what. Everything costs money. I have not found work, not beyond occasional small gigs.
After writing that, my mood is still sour, but buoyed by watching David Cross's new podcast (with guest Bob Odenkirk).
For the moment, I am able to make myself practice guitar regularly because I am still writing jokes that specifically incorporate the guitar.
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