I take comfort in knowing that you find me boring

For the second time this week I have to go to work early. It is 1 am and I am blogging even though I need to be at work in 7 hours. I live dangerously like that because I don't care if I wake up in time to go to work. I don't care if I get fired. I know I could always use my extensive blog contacts to e-mail you and ask if I could come "kick it" at your house for a while.

I am trying to write, but I am too uninspired to do so. I have no idea why I try.

When I don't write it is because I self censor. I self censor because I am a perfectionist. I want every post I write to be entertaining.

Maybe you noticed that I have not written as much as I said I would when I finally got the internet at home. The reason is because I can now take all the time I need to write a post now, so I don't have a ready made excuse for you when they come out sucking like this one.

I gave away this blog's address to a couple of people from work. I wanted to try and wow them by writing something so great for them they would stick around and get my blogger following into the double digits. I don't think all my self promotion is going to work because even when I get the endorsement and promotion of a blogger like Katie Schwartz my stats don't explode and I don't add any new readers.

I'd like to blame myself, or my poor writing for the lack of interest in this blog, but I think we both know better than that. I know plenty of high profile sites that aren't half as good as this site is and they get millions of hits. I guess that is why I refuse to apologize to my 2 new readers from work for the crappiness of this blog. I don't really care if today's post sucks, I think you basically owe me a second and third chance to write something funny for you. If you don't like this post you can always visit the incomparable archives of this blog where you will find stories of strippers, hookers, and beer drinking escapades that will delight.

I know the rest of my readers don't care about all that, but the rest of what I have to talk about is boring.

My electricity is not going to get shut off. I paid the bill at 7-11, at some random bill pay kiosk. It took a few days longer than I anticipated for the payment to get credited, but I am happy to tell you that it did, and I no longer have to stress about that.

I have been stressing lately and I don't like that. Most days I don't stress because I am too depressed to give a shit about anything. And since I don't care about shit I don't take responsibility to do anything, like take care of myself. Well all that is changing because I am living on my own at the condo. I have to do things like watch my electric usage. I have to make sure the refrigerator door is always shut.

If I forget to keep the door shut I end up having to throw the milk out. I wasted an entire gallon today. The milk smelled ok, but it felt tepid to the touch. I decided to be safe rather than sorry and threw it out. One of the most empowering things you can do in life is to waste food. I think that is why indigenous peoples invented potlatches.

I don't feel bad about the gallon I wasted because I bought a new gallon of milk from all the reward "bucks" I get from management. I get tons of extra rewards bucks from work because I always say "yes" when management asks me to change my schedule or work extra hours for them. I work all the extra hours I can so I can tell myself that I am doing every thing humanly possible to pay my bills. Of course that is not true, I need to get a second job, or at least look for a job that pays at least 10 dollars an hour. I tell people I am staying with this job because it offers health care, even though I have not used any of the health care benefits that come from this job. I am afraid of using my health coverage because that would require me to pick a doctor and pay 25 dollars for the initial consultation.

I can't decide if I want to have a male doctor or a female doctor. I want to pick a female doctor because I am getting to the age where I will need a prostate exam every few months and I want a h0t doctor's finger in my anus. I don't want any unexpected orgasms (the result of prostate stimulation) to come from a dude. I haven't been on a date in 4 years so the last thing I need is added confusion in my life.

I know I should probably pick a male doctor because there is no such thing as a "hot female" doctor except on TV. I am not even sure how I would go about picking a hot doctor. Doctors don't post pictures of themselves on the internet so that you can choose the most attractive person for you- like real estate agents do. I think they should. I can't think of a better way to pick a doctor than by selecting them on the basis of their looks.

I want to pick a doctor on their looks only because doctors won't release their medical practice records to the public. So the only thing you have to work with is a recommendation from a friend or family member. Most of us just end up choosing a name at random from the yellow pages because we figure all doctors have to pass the same tests and licensing requirements so they are all probably the same. All doctors probably are the same so that's why my idea of picking a cute doctor lady is as good as randomly searching in the yellow pages for a doctor closest to your house.

As you can see I really don't know what to do about choosing my doctor so I am caught in this dead zone of choice. I hate making decisions.

The other thing I am worried about is going grey. I noticed the hair on the side of my head is turning greyer. I don't know where all the new grey hair came from. I think it may have been there for a while and I just didn't see it. I know I have have not had a hair cut in a few weeks. It is time for me to get another one. When my hair grows out I think you can see the grey a little easier. I don't mind a little grey hair. I just don't want to turn into a silver hair fox yet. I just moved into a place right next to a bunch of college bars and I was kind a hoping I could still "hit it" with a few college co-eds before I resign myself to the fat Mexican with 5 kids who loves to eat hard boiled eggs.

I don't know what I have against hard boiled egg eaters, I just know that I don't like the idea of my fat, lazy wife wiping her grubby egg shelled hands on her undershirt. I get that picture in my head a lot and it disturbs me. But after reading this post, maybe you just think I get disturbed easily.