The Humanitarian Caffeine Addict

Ok, its about 3:15 in the morning and I'm still up. I can't fucking sleep. I've been drinking waaaaayyyyy too much diet coke tonight and having a long and drawn out conversation with a friend about the job market.

The minutes of the meeting:

No conclusions reached about potential jobs or job opportunities.

The meeting was concluded and no new business was introduced.

I'm not much on parliamentarian procedure, so that's the best I can do. I'm at that point of going crazy for lack of sleep. Among the movies I watched today: Red Dawn, Beloved, and Anchorman. My insanity apparently knows no bounds. Currently I am, or I guess I was, brainstorming about what to do with the next 60 or so years of my life, but I still can't find anything to do. Something to do with money, though. Yes, I like money. LOL. Been reading blogs and sifting through my friends on Myspace, of which I only have around 30 or so. I saw one person who had like 350 friends. I don't even know 100 people. How the hell can you have 300 friends?

Back to the job thing. Its like everytime I think of something interesting to do, I figure out how to talk myself out of it because it is trite, or exhaustively tedious, or just shitty. I'm not sure why I think that way. I want to do something I can be passionate about, but at the same time, treat as a job and not missionary work. As you can tell from my previous post, I'm not much on the volunteer thing, these days. I owe too much money to the wizard and Oz demands you pay up in a timely fashion. I enjoy writing, or at least pretending to write, but I have severe writers block when it comes to fiction. If I could unhook my creative lines, I would try to spend the rest of my life writing and not giving a shit about entering the rat race at the back of the pack, because the way things stand today, entry level is all that awaits, even for a legal eagle like myself. The funny thing is, I don't really like eagles that much. Funny, huh?

A homeless guy asked me for 62 cents last night, when I was parking in front of the rathskeller. 62 cents? Come on. I told him I only had my debit card, which was the truth. Well, maybe I had 62 cents in the console of my car, but seriously, I know he didn't want 62 cents worth of pennies covered in a sticky concoction of Fire sauce from Taco Bell and diet coke. I felt like I was doing him a favor, but that's just the kind of humanitarian I am.

I added a counter to this blog, a few days after I started posting, and now its up to a hundred. The only problem with it is it counts me when I log in, so I think its a bit inflated. Then again, I doubt anyone really reads this shit. I guess I just write this for catharsis, hell, I don't even know if I'm getting that out of posting on this site. I post alot, so maybe I am getting something out of this.

I think priorities is what I need. I need to prioritize what I want out of life, then maybe I would be able to settle on something to do with the next few decades. Hmmm. Made it back to jobs. Now I'm getting sleepy. Hell, maybe the only good thing about blogging is it will make you sleepy at 3:30 in the morning, or maybe the fucking caffeine is finally wearing off.