I’m going with the flow so swimmingly I’m not sure which way is up. The job I’m working requires a type of stress management only a crazy person could love. Fortunately, I’m that kind of crazy. My accumulated experiences in the workforce has taught me many valuable lessons. Namely, don’t take work home with you. In a bar that applies to the clientele as well, to my dismay. I know for a fact that hooking up with people at your bar is a rookie mistake. I’ve got them all convinced I’m not a rookie. Ispo facto – no nookie with the nerds. I’ve adopted a imperious attitude with regulars as an attempt to distance myself from all of their pretty faces. My mantras revolve around the idea no one would want me anyway. The effect on my self esteem is damaging.

But I’m doing it. I’m living day to day, paycheck to paycheck, like a common person. It feels like I mastered a new difficulty level in life and playing through old levels is suddenly fun again. I’m only 35. That’s not much in the long run but I’m definitively older than my number. Especially considering my roots. I’ve always had a distaste for humanity. Nothing about our general behavior encourages faith in a greater purpose. The things that bring us joy are inherently self destructive and yet we are taught to preserve the self above all. The rare glimpses I’ve had of happiness are exclusively when I forget my ego. Stripping my psyche down enough to get there isn’t easy. I can see everyone above me, milling about on the surface, in a daze. I envy them with a heaviness.