Wednesday's always drag

My job is like working for twelve dads and one naggy mom, and two aunts and two uncles who don't care for me much.

My twelve work dads can't do much for themselves, except for two or three. Four of them are useless. Absolutely useless. I do everything for them that's not related to their field of expertise.

My naggy mom is manipulative and gossips more than anyone should. Some days are okay. Others I am a worse person for knowing her.

Harsh words, I know. I see the good in all these people. It is there. But some days I just really want to stop working here. Today it's for no particular reason except that I'm not doing what I love. Which means I'm not being true to myself.

I rationalize keeping this job because I don't want to go full time teaching music (I say I don't). I want the security and benefits. I want the bonuses and eating at nice restaurants. I don't want any other part of it.

I always had high hopes for myself as a writer, but I put those to bed long ago. I don't feel like a very good writer anymore, because I never write. I don't have anything to write about.

I want to make pretty things people can appreciate. I don't write songs anymore. I'm not sure I ever will again.

Changing all these things is as easy as I want it to be. I suppose I don't want to change it badly enough, or I am more content than I thought.

Do you ever think that you would be perfectly content without the Internet? I would be.