I know I whine all the time, I bitch about my problems. Maybe it’s because of my dad. He always plays the martyr trying to get sympathy or get his way—even if it never works. But I don’t think I am like that. I whine more because it’s my way of dealing with all the things in the work that happen to me that hurt or upset or bother me. Though I only bitch about the important stuff—love life, the future, insecurities to a few people, my closest friends. No I whine and complain all the time about the things that don’t fit into my grand master plan—car wrecks, working 80 hours a week and such—because it is my way of dealing with it. And as J——- says, I like the tale of woe.
And now for something completely different… lets talk about the good things in my life—though they don’t make as good of stories—and I like telling my stories.
First off, I have a good circle of friends that are there for me when I need them. Be it coincidence, fate, karma, insanity on their part or some master plan things in the end do work out. And more often than not it is because of my friends that it does work out.
For instance I am typing this entry on a laptop that I got from my friend J—- for basically free. It’s not a new super laptop—but it is much newer and nicer than my old laptop and more than I could afford. He did not want it because the hard drive crashed and the battery was dead. So I asked if I could have it—worst case I had to buy a new drive and battery. Turned out, by twist of fate that the hard drive in my old computer fit this one, and I got a battery from a used hardware shop for $25. Wallah—’new’ laptop for beggs.
Then their is my ride this week. Since I crashed my truck and do not have rental coverage on my policy I had no I idea how I was going to get to and from work for the next week or so while my truck is fixed. I got rides from J——-, S—— and D—- last week but had no easy way to get too from work. But this week Thilo went on vacation and was cool enough to offer me the use of his BMW for the week. Can you say; holy shit. I can’t believe he trust me that much—I don’t think I would trust me that much. And maybe I’ll go and pick him up at the airport Sunday so I can run him over and keep the car. Or maybe I’ll call and say, ‘Yea, I’m going to pick you up at the airport—how does Miami sound?’
It comes down to no matter what has ever happened in my life I have been able to deal with it. Something or some plan comes along and I get by. Sometimes things even work out for the better. It’s my right to complain and bitch about those things that depress, scare or bother me. But maybe I do it too much.