Avoiding work........

This more of a stream of consciousness type of blog, so if it gets wierd deal with it.

I am the author of my own nervous breakdown. I write it in shakes and gibbers, pangs and shivers. In a deep enough depression, none of my bills get paid. Anti-depressants don't so much get rid of anger, sadness, and rage as much as they put a wall in front of it. Eventually something will get through but it will hit like a sponge instead of a brick. Someone beautiful told me that emotion gets built up inside of your muscles along with your mind. After a while your mind works it out and deals with it, but your body still needs to work it out. I have the strangest feelings while I'm exercising. Sometimes I feel Psychotic, other times I'm scared, other times I'm desperate, but I always feel good afterwards. When I punch a heavy bag, I imagine I'm battling my own stomach, just the stomach and the love handles. I pound on my gut until its black and blue or until I'm out of breath. The problem is, the more I work out, the harder my stomach gets. Hopefully soon, I'll be punching a brick wall, or a wash board.

A friend told me that Mcdonald's was serving breakfast all day long instead of cutting it off at 10:30AM. I thought that this was a much more important issue for Mickey D's to deal with, I mean nevermind the nutritional content of the menu in general, the problem is we don't have enough breakfast.

I've learned that when I'm depressed, I sleep and eat more. I don't give a crap when or how long I sleep. I don't give a crap what or how much I eat. Someone with a PHD told me that my innerchild is running my life (the little bastard). I said that this makes perfect sense. I want junkfood, candy, movies, and to play video games a lot. Doing stuff like washing clothes, washing dishes, paying bills, cleaning the house, fixing the house, mowing the lawn, buying groceries, looking for a new job isn't fun for me. My inner-little-shit is in control, it's time to put him down for a long nap.