Why do anything?

Sometimes I forget that I’m improving peoples’ lives immensely when I get poked at the plasma center. I think of how long it’s going to take, if it’s going to hurt a lot this time, how far I’ll get in my book, if I drank enough water. But not about the people it’s going to.

I know if I get a good job, I’ll likely stop giving it. It is about the money! I think though, in this economy, there are enough candidates to sell plasma that I’d be okay not doing it. I’d probably give someone else the chance to make extra gas money.

Speaking of gas money, I feel like a huge freaking hypocrite lately. I’m all about Complete Streets on the other blog, yet I drive 100 miles a week. I visit my boyfriend in another city twice a week. I could feasibly take a train, but schedule-wise that doesn’t work. I keep preaching about community, but I can barely say hi to people on the street. I’m scared of people!

These dichotomies are starting to get to me. I’m only doing what I can. There are ways to save water and energy that I haven’t even thought of.  But why save water!? I’m in Michigan!  Why do anything, for that matter? I’ve accepted a pointless existence for myself, this is all just fun and games.  This needs to change. That’s all I know right now.

Two best friends left me this morning. For Montana. I saw a double rainbow at a rodeo during a sunny hailstorm there once. But they’re gone. I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve failed over and over as a friend. I lost two more of the few people I can be myself around. And I was zoning out the entire night with them last night, no, I was zoning out for the past year. Don’t know why.

In my novel, the main character will shaken awake by an agent of reality. I’ve always wanted that to happen to me. I haven’t written that part yet. I’m waiting for something to happen to me, but it’s likely I’ll have to escape this myself.

(Just like my dream last night, where I was a hostage of the government and women were hired to keep me and a bunch of people in this warehouse with an open screen door. The women guards had no job other than to keep us in and no reason to do so. I tried to escape and one grabbed my wrist and told me no. I pulled her outside with me and ran so far that she couldn’t go back. At that point she didn’t want to. I said to other escapees, “wouldn’t that job just totally suck? It’s so illogical!”)

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