When I told RockGirl that I'd gotten a permanent job offer today, and that I'd accepted it, she replied with, "Yay, I guess."

By the way, I italicized that word above because, as I learned a little over a year ago, permanent doesn't really mean what people think it means.

Anyway, I knew exactly what RockGirl meant.

After exhaustive research, I have determined that money is a good thing to have. But, another thing that's good to have is tons of freedom.

Sometimes, you can't have them both. Sometimes, you have to choose.

And, since my grand lottery plan never did work out, I had to choose. I chose money, and everything that comes with money. Food, housing, etc.

Plus, I'm really excited about this job. I know, everybody says that, but I really am.

I get so tired at around this time every night.

"Fine," I say. "I'll just go to sleep and then wake up at a resonable time tomorrow morning. It'll get my schedule back to normal. It'll be awesome."

But noooooooooooooooo!

If I go to sleep now, then I'll suddenly find myself wide awake around midnight, scratching my head and wondering what it was that woke me up so completely.

And then I'll be up until 6:00 or so tomorrow morning.

The thing is, this has been an utterly relationship-changing event. Perhaps even a relationship-destroying event.

Why am I the only one who see this?

And I don't normally believe in slippery slopes, but this one is totally frictionless!

Why am I the only one bothered by this? Why am I the only one devastated by this.

She would probably say she's just being optimistic, but the truth is that she is being very naive.

I guess I always think it's funny when people read what little I allow myself to post here and they think they're experts on my life and thoughts. Either that, or it pisses me off. I forget which.

I took a walk. Not a long one, maybe just a couple of miles. To the end of my road and back. It was a little chilly, and a little drizzly at times, but it was still nice. As an unexpected bonus, I got to pet a kitty in the gas station parking lot.

I never did get anywhere, though. Not really.

RockGirl was telling me about a movie she'd seen, with a quote that went something like, "half the people are running toward happiness, and the others are running away from sadness."

I like that quote. I'm not really sure where I fit into it. Usually I feel like I'm just spinning in place. Sometimes I get dizzy.

I think that tonight, I was walking away from something. I had two ideas for blog entries. I didn't really want to write either of them. Both are bad ideas, but both need to be said.

I walked, like I said, for a couple of miles. It wasn't nearly far enough. I never escaped these ideas. They followed me. They're still here.

So, apparently, Pizza Hut is now hiring disabled people to take phone orders. Good for them, I guess.

Before this, I was pretty sure that I'd seen every possible misspelling of my last name. Even the infamous Sililililitz from 1986.

For an added chuckle compare the phone number to my actual number.

People ask me. All the damn time, they ask me.

I tell them that I don't know. Then, in a somewhat firmer voice, I state that I don't want to talk about it.

That second part is kind of a lie. The insistence in my voice is as much for my own benefit as it is for my interrogators.

Because, I do want to talk about it. I want another pair of ears to hear the story. I want another brain to process the information. I want another pair of lips to, I suppose, explain to me that which I haven't been able to explain to myself. I want, maybe even need, a different perspective.

I desperately want to talk about it.

But, I don't. I'm trying to be a nice guy, after all. Deserved or not, I'm trying.

So, I don't talk about. I pretend that my silence is my choice, but it's not. I don't talk about it because she doesn't like it when I talk about it. And I don't blame her for that. I'd be the same way, in her situation. Whatever that might be.

That first part, however, from way back at the beginning of this stupid entry, is the truth; I really don't know what's going on.

I have my suspicions and opinions, though. And I don't like them very much.

And I really really really wish that I didn't care. My life would be so much easier, if I could just stop caring.

But, I do care. I suspect that I will always care.

That suspicion scares the shit out of me.