Derailed.

It's been a really shitty week.

Let's recap so far. After all, it's only Monday:

1. Sarah and I had a big falling out. She's mad. Enough that she punched me.

2. I had a C average in Biochemistry, so I studied my ass off for an exam this morning. I confidently strolled in...and promptly flunked it. With only one exam left, this pretty much sealed my fate for not getting into nursing school this year. I cried. A lot.

3. Joy left for a funeral this morning, but went to her parents' place last night. I went to bed at midnight...I got to sleep at 4:00 AM. I got up at 7:30 to go to the exam. Came home exhausted and depressed, then spent from noon until 2:30pm trying to get more sleep. I never dozed off once.

4. I worry a lot about Joy. I always do. For some reason, I'm always afraid of something happening to her whenever I'm not there. To top things off, we were looking online at female musicians, and I remembered a beautiful, yet ultra-depressing song called "Passage" by Vienna Teng. Of course, since it's about a girl who dies in a car crash, I became uber-worried about my wife. This retarded my sleeping efforts even more so.

5. I've had a lot of people hating on me lately. I know what Joy would say.
"Nobody hates you. You take everything too personally." I'm not saying everyone hates me. I'm saying there's been too much shit going on lately, and the stress is really starting to get to me. People blaming me for things, needless tension between people, and nothing going the way it should.

This sounds like just a depression slope. It's not. I'm not usually like this. I think watching nursing school slip through my fingers is what did it. I was trying so hard. Harder than I've ever tried anything. The funny thing is, I'm still going to. Depressed as I am, I'm not going to give up completely, because then I'm just like the post office people. And that scares me more than anything else.

I'm just sick of being so tired from constantly trying so hard, and not seeing the results I need. And it only gets harder from here. If I can get that far.

The Wonders of a Scottish Makeover

One thing that I'm sure we've all noticed lately is the astonishing new hilarity that is made-up names. Especially those with a scottish tone. More specifically, making fun of people and adding "Mc" to their last name. This, as I have found in recent days, has made me laugh so much I nearly pee myself.

I found a few good examples. The easiest way to deploy this tactic is to take physical and/or social traits of said individual and expand on it. For instance:

"Hotty McShaggalot"

"Stupid McFirepants"

"Stinky McGreaseball"

"Spanish McAmerican-Blackwhitey"

(Been married a few times)

"Trailer McWhorebag"

Special Mention, from Sarah...

"Pancakes McSourcream"
or
"Grisham McBacos"

See? It's simple. Hours of entertainment for the whole family.

Judgment Day

So...okay.

I realize that I'm not the most subtle person in the world, but I'm not an asshole, either. Which is why I wanted to put this out there.

Why do I derive so much pleasure from laughing at people I know/knew who (as I come to discover) are leading pointless, farcical existences?

I've been to many sites recently. Mostly out of boredom. These sites are, but are not limited to, Facebook, Myspace, The Milan High School Alumni page, and others. I've come to discover that many people I knew way back when are still employed in childish, obviously ridiculous practices, and either live 3 blocks from where they grew up, or they moved to...like...South Dakota...and have numerous pictures on their site of them...not doing anything.

Now, here's where I attempt to justify myself.

I've mentioned this to people before. What's the inevitable response? "What about You? You still play video games!" This is true. I play video games. So do over 2 billion people on this planet. It's competitive to the porn industry. It's a worldwide hobby that many people enjoy. That's all it is, a hobby. It's NOT, like many people's practices that I'm comparing to, a lifestyle.

When the comparison comes down to me playing video games VS a 30-year-old named Tom with 2 kids having his friends call him "Demetrius" and he wears a black cape and pretends he's a vampire...

I believe there is a sliiiiiiiiiiight diffy.

I don't dress up. I don't carry around 95 swords and insist that my surname is "Destroyer of Worlds". I don't have an entire site devoted to pictures that I've drawn of myself as a superhero or a ninja. I don't write poetry that sounds like Robert Frost's five-year-old son threw up on some parchment.

I got married. I'm planning on having a family. I'm trying to finish school so I can support said family and give them the life they deserve. I believe, in any sense you really can, that I've grown up.

Why do I care about what other people do? I'm sure as shittin' not envious, which is what most people would say. So why is it?

The only thing I can think of is it's a really bad case of sour grapes. These are people who, back in the day, made fun of me for being overweight, or not fitting in, or trying too hard. Now they are doing the same thing: Gaining tons of weight, pretending they are "mysterious" when all they do is sit around all the time, and make-believing they have lives when they don't do...anything.

I feel horrible about the fact that I just spent a good 2 hours scrolling through people's sites and profiles. I'm not normally this judgmental...I don't think.

But even though we all hate to admit it, it gives a feeling of satisfaction that amidst the hardships of your own life, that it could always be worse.