Invited to the pub, but I didn't go because I was a little tired plus I'm avoiding a local girl who got drunk at my house last week when I had a friend down and I was drunk too, we were all drunk and messy, and when I went to bed I stripped naked in front of her not really thinking things out and got into bed and suddenly she's lying on top of me and kissing me and I was thinking, "Ew, no, ew" (I'm not attracted to her at all) but it was too late, I had kissed her once for like two seconds and then after three seconds I said, "get off me, go home," and she cracked it and I've been too scared to go out locally since, particularly because Miss Artist came down during the week and we were walking down the street arm in arm and I saw Local Girl and said, "Hey there," and she like totally snubbed us. So I watched the footy, then 2 episodes of The Sopranos. That's 5 hours, laying on the couch. Chain smoked, and drank a lot of tea and coffee.
Did 1 hours' work in the morning then rewarded myself by watching 2 more episodes of The Sopranos. I was invited to two parties in Melbourne - one a sedate and intimate housewarming, one a big bonfire party with heaps of people, and although I'm fairly lonely in my life right now, I decided to stay home and watch the footy. I watched the amazing Essendon match, another episode of The Sopranos, and then I watched the Richmond match (go Tiges) and then I watched 3 more episodes of The Sopranos. Went to bed at 3am. Hours on couch for Saturday - 12-ish. Twelve fucking hours laying on a couch. More than a pack of cigarettes.
Got up at 9am fully intending to achieve things. Clean house, do some exercise, do some writing. Started by watching an episode of The Sopranos. I then murdered a bird. It was stuck in my potbelly chimney flue for a couple of days, and I was cold, and anyway, I've always assumed the birds stuck in there just end up flying out. I was wrong. I think there's a pile of carcasses in the flue, because when I lit the fire to warmup, I heard it desperately fluttering its wings trying to get away, and then it fluttered no more. I was a little upset, particularly when Miss Artist cancelled on me for Monday-Wednesday this week. See, Miss Artist came down during the week last week and spent some nights here and we hard some erotic moments and I really enjoyed it, and she said that for a little while, maybe for a month or two, she would come down every Monday-Wednesday. But she cancelled on me, equally indefinitely. Like, last week was it, I think. Into my life nude, out of it straightaway, fully clothed. To cheer up from that and the bird murder, I watched an episode of The Sopranos. Then it was footy time. Watched footy roundup shows, then the Geelong match, then some of the Carlton match, then I made some toasted sandwiches and watched five episodes of The Sopranos in a row. Season Two of The Sopranos finished, all watched in a mild catatonia within 72 hours. It has something to do with gangsters. Hours on couch for Sunday - 11 hours.
I think there's something wrong with me. I am overwhelmed with lethargy but have trouble sleeping. I am shunning all social activity. I didn't talk to anyone all weekend - even Hot German Chick who stayed with me last summer and looks like this:
and she's calling on skype and on my home phone saying in her cute Bavarian accent "are you dare? talk wiz me?" and the reason I ignored her and wouldn't talk to her was because I WAS WATCHING DVD TELEVISION SHOWS. Like, she's a friend - a single one (in Germany, but, you know, whatever).
And there is so much I want to do. I'm trying to write a book, a movie, do stuff for the band, get better organised with money, meet a nice woman and have a proper girlfriend for the first time in almost three years, and what am I doing? Laying on the fucking couch doing NOTHING. What's wrong with me?
So anyway, I wrote this blog tonight (it's Sunday 11.30pm) just so I can say I did something. I also put the bins out in the rain. That was the most active thing I did all fucking weekend.
This is not something peculiar to this weekend either. I've noticed this gradually happening to me in the past year. If people visit me here I'm hospitable and a good host, but I'm not making any effort to leave the house to see people. I'm occassionaly shocked into action, like when work gets very busy or when a Ponygirl comes racing into my life, but generally, I've been on a downward spiral. I used to pride myself on keeping busy with side projects. I've lost it. I can't even be bothered doing book reviews, and I used to love doing them. My biggest side project now is housework. It's one plus out of all of this - my house is spotless.
Is it because I'm turning 40 this year? Is that it?