But then, nothing is.

Seems like I screwed up wheb I ordered this week’s groceries. Due to an excess of enthusiasm over how much of my usual stuff I had left over from last week, I ordered far too little this time.

There is no way these meager leftovers plus what I ordered will last until next Sunday.

Maybe Wednesday, or Thursday if I am lucky.

And this bothers me because I am normally so good at resource management. To make such a basic blunder, therefore, upsets and unsettles me.

Oh well. All it will ultimately cost me is another $10 delivery fee and some emotional distress in the long run.

At least I got everything I ordered. Well, everything but that big variety pack of lunch sized bags of Old Dutch chips.

Old Dutch, to me, always sounds like the name of a very old man, or a very old man, or possibly of both.

“Now don’t you worry about a thing, little missy. ” he wheezed. “Old Dutch will make sure you catch that stagecoach right on time!”.

Did I mention this all takes place in the Wild West?

Speaking of mental errors (I was too!), I have forgotten then remembered that today is a stat holiday (Canadian Thanksgiving) and therefore I have to wait till tomorrow to make an appointment with my GP four or five times today and it’s only 4:38 pm.

It’s like I formed the intention to call today and that intention refuses to be updated.

Ironically, the whole reason I want the appointment in the first place is because I am worried about my increasingly spotty brain performance.

Nice job with the irony as always, Fate.

More after the break.

Life in freefall

I often get the feeling that I am falling forward in time.

The days, months, and years of my life go by faster as I accelerate. It gets harder and harder to retain memories of the time I’m passing through because I am going so fast and each day is so much like alike that they all blur together like telephone poles during a high speed chase.

And the faster I go, the less real anything feels. I’m as helpless as a falling stone as I plummet through my life.

No secret as to what I’m falling towards : death. The grave. The big fat period at the end of the long, rambling, pointless sentence that was my life.

I will die without ever having lived. Without ever having gotten to be an adult. Without ever being self-sufficient. Never having had a real job. Never having been in any kind of romantic relationship, not even a fuck buddy. Having had very little sex at all, what I have had was not that great.

Instead of actually living my life, I have sealed myself off from off from the world like some kind of monk, except instead of praying I’ve been playing video games.

Praying would have been more productive.

So that’s how I see my life now : accelerating under gravity’s inexorable pull till I land in my pathetic grave with a big wet SPLAT.

I can hardly wait.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.