Wherever Dreams Take You

I woke up today.

I shouldn't have. I should have slept forever. I wonder if that's what happens when you die in your sleep. You just sleep forever. Floating on past memories, and constructed futures from pieces of your past. If you had a bad life, you'll have bad dreams in the afterlife. If you lived a good life, then you'll have good dreams. Dreams are all we are, and all we will become.

Who the fuck cares. Right now, I woke up. Shit!!

I looked around my room and I was back in it again. Maybe this is a nightmare? Fuck it. I get up and stand up in the center of my room. I have a day today. I'm going to see Dr. A. and then I'm going to walk back uptown to my place. Hmmm. You're probably saying, shouldn't you be at WESCARE right now? Running into the place and sitting down in the lab to search the Internet for a job? WESCARE can suck my nuts.

I had sent a resume to a job recruiter. I got this in an email:

Hi Hobobob,
Thank you for your resumes, as you are not a match for the position we have open at ISE, I will keep you in mind for future opportunities that are a better match. Take care and I hope to work with you in the future.
Best Regards,

That's good news. Now I have four eyes looking for something for me, and this is much better than those losers at the Roach Motel. They are looking for ANYTHING to stick me in, and I'll have to take whatever shit they find. Whereas this recruiter will actually match my resume with a job. I'll take anything, the only problem is that in my field there are probably thousands of us out of work, looking for scores of jobs. Not a good average. People are so afraid of losing their jobs nowadays, not getting new ones.

I'm pretty much fucked, unless I'm lucky. It's funny how fuck and luck are just one letter different. Take it in the ass or give it in the ass. One letter away.

That's my mind. Always thinking about sex. Maybe it's because I DON'T GET ANY? Shit. Well, there's always porn.

So I stayed online, and I stayed online, and I stayed online, and I realized that I'm stalling. I'm being reluctant. I get that way sometimes. When I can't deal with the world, after a depressive period, which is what I had, I get a panic period where I'm afraid, or reluctant, to go outside. This was one of those periods. Now this meant that I had two days of undocumented days from the Roach Motel. They will not like this. This could be another FTC. They're tight about that. Three strikes I'm out. Well, if they are going to kick me in the ass I'll just wait until they send another letter telling me that I have to come in and face the music.

I am miserable, so I crawl into bed and go to sleep, escaping in dreams to a better place, with my redhead in a bikini, running about on a white, sandy beach, with a bright sun and brisk, fresh air. I would like to stay there, but again, I wake up and look around. It's seven O'clock. Damn. Why can't I just sleep entire weeks away? Well what would be the difference other than I would be a week older. I need to sleep like Rip Van Winkle, and wake up in another century, where cars float in the air and people use zap guns to settle disputes.

I'd have myself beamed up to the Enterprise and go around in space with my beautiful redhead in a bikini.

I sit behind my computer again, answer emails, and then go on IRC with mIRC and the only person in the channel is DRTYTLK, and we hang out. We pass porn back and forth like baseball cards to each other until we tire. It's after midnight. I bid DRTYTLK goodnight and blog. That's one thing that I do well. Later I'll jump into bed and go back to sleep. Tomorrow is the SHOUT OUT.

Tomorrow is another day.

I wonder if I will have to wake up.

Hobobob