It’s not like my life is any worse than it’s been for the last year and a half. I still live with my mom. I’m still adjusting to losing most of my friends in the divorce. I still hate my job. I’m still unable to get even an interview for the most menial jobs that only require a high school diploma. My house still won’t sell, which means I still have no money. I’m still fat and incapable of bringing myself to do anything about it.

Maybe what’s bothering me so much is the fact that all of these things were only supposed to be temporary, but they’re looking to be permanent now. This life was tolerable when I thought it was temporary. But now I don’t see that it’s ever going to change.

Or maybe I just need to get back on my happy pills. Or maybe I’ll feel better later. Or maybe I’ll drop dead tomorrow and none of this will have mattered.

Right now, I have a hard time even caring about that. There are jobs to apply for, but I don’t see the point in bothering with it, so I probably won’t even apply. It’s just wasted time and energy. Not that I’m using my time or energy for anything else worthwhile. I’m completely disinterested in kickboxing or anything else that might help me lose weight. The good thing is that I don’t feel like eating either. I only eat either when it’s socially dicated or when my headache gets so bad I can’t avoid it anymore. I don’t even want to watch TV or read. I just want to go to bed and sleep. Sleep is where I don’t have to think about anything.

I keep thinking I need a vacation, but that won’t change anything. After vacations, things are always even worse when I have to re-enter the real world.

And now I’m annoying myself with all this Poor Me crap. I have a job. I have a place to live. I have a couple good friends. And my health is fine. I should just shut up and be glad for what I have.

I’ve had a headache for two or three days now. I’ve lost count. I should eat something, but my only choices right now are a nasty Weight Watchers TV dinner or fast food. I’m sure there are other choices, like going to the grocery store and buying stuff to make a healthy lunch, or some crap like that, but those aren’t really options to me right now.

My job is really depressing me lately. I know that’s not really anything new, and I should stop complaining about it. I sent out some more applications this week, but I know I won’t hear back. I never do anymore.

It’s clear I’ll be here until the end of time. Which is very depressing, since I really don’t like anyone who works here anymore. Especially the new guy. He’s just way too in my face all the time. I can’t even sit here and cry, pretending I have allergies. And I can’t give him stuff to do, because I can’t trust him to do it even partially correctly. And I have to go sometime soon and talk to my manager about my review. I’m sure everyone said that I have no personality, that I obviously don’t care about my job, and that I don’t participate in things like holiday parties. All true.

And now I’ve pretty much convinced myself that I’ll never be my own boss, under any circumstances. I don’t have enough talent or motivation to  make any money at crafts. And I obviously don’t have enough self-discipline or confidence to make any money at writing. And since nobody in the free world wants to hire me for anything involving an actual paycheck, I guess I’m stuck here. It’s frustrating, because even when I apply for a job when I exactly fit all of their requirements, I hear nothing. It seems like they’d at least want to meet me in person before deciding that I totally suck and can’t possibly do the job. On paper, I can totally do it.

Sometimes, the realization that I’m stuck in my current job isn’t so bad. Sometimes, I’m able to appreciate the advantages of working here, and I’m able to retain some shred of hope that it will get better eventually. But this week, it’s bad. The advantages are heartily crushed by the disadvantages, even by just the overall feeling of crap I have when I’m here. The hope is gone, withered under the unkind glare of self-knowledge. And then, to make it all worse, I write pathetic half-metaphors that make no sense and only make me sound like I’m trying to appear smarter than I am.

I have plenty of free time in the evenings this week, alone in my house with the dogs, but all I end up wanting to do is watch TV or go to bed at 7:00. So, this week I get to come to terms with a bunch of ugly facts about myself. I’m fat, lazy, and unemployable.

I know this feeling of total despair will lessen at some point, but that doesn’t make it any less painful and miserable right now.