I wish I was as fortunate

...as fortunate as me.

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Perhaps a return to form.

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Its funny, sad, and stupid how we get and grow old.  The two friends that I most associate with, as in, we never talk yet we tend to keep up with each other because of the wonderful FB, we hardly, if ever, actually, talk.  But keeping up with them is strange.  Aside from myself, they have been married, divorced (and/or separated, but) and are doing pretty damn well.

I'm happily single.  Last GF was in DC, and I'm still wondering what the fuck I've been doing since then.

I've been in Savannah nearly four years now.  Four years will be this September.  I'm getting old.  And it sucks.  I have nothing to show for it.  Friends that I have been able to get in contact with over the past few years show me that Gee, Jer, If Only You Had Gotten Married In The 1990's You Would Still Be Looking At Your Latter 40's As A Win For Life.

I really don't know how that would have played out.  None of us do.  I'm at a loss when it comes to idiocy like thinking "What if?".

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I left Pittsburgh after 5 and a half years.  It was a hard break, one, that I was encouraged to do, but one that I'm finally realizing I did so, so, horribly bad that the ramifications are with me to this day.

I fucked, and I say this with so much certainty, I fucked it up.

I thought I was doing the right thing for myself.  I was finally able to finagle a week off, amazingly between Christmas and New Years to travel back to Pittsburgh.  Funny haha how you can talk and remenisce (sic...fuck how to spell that word) and still get fucked years later.

I put my life in storage.  Granted, I was dealing with a new promotion, figuring out a new city, and living out of an Extended Stay.  Also, I was the primary contact with the IRS agent that was dealing with my landladys idiocy.  I'm realizing, ten (10) years after the fact that the best thing would have been to have dumped my car in Pittsburgh and drove that moving truck all the way to Madison.  And that would have forced my hand with the multiple folk I had been in talks with.

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Should have.  Could have.  Didn't.

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It's not fun realizing where you went wrong. Ten Mother Fucking Year Ago.

It's also not fun when you find out, counting the years, it's gonna be number four here Savannah later this year.

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I want to end this on a good note but I have no idea.  Lemmy, Bowie, Rickman, Frey, all dead.  Bowie is the one that, I just, fuck, don't know.  Makes me think that if I hopefully outlive Eddie Vedder I'll have something poinent to say (sic...fuck ms spell correct).

But probably not, since I'll probably be shitting myself and being happy about it.

Fair Touching

I let myself down.

Fifteen, hell, sixteen years down, I fucked up.  I let it all get the better of me. And then I let family get involved, which was the worst.  For me and them.

And here I am.  Forty fucking years old.  Listening to a twelve year old GBV album.  At least its my favorite.

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my day consists of not clocking in. because they are that company. my prep this last day was literally nothing, which was a good thing since it usually entails things that require   more that the hour or so that I have before we are open for service. I understand cutting hours and labor and making the most of your staff, but there are days when I'm still doing prep at closing.  fuck that. there are days I still haven't done it all. fuck that a thousand times.

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I fucked up.

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I knew my shit.  I had it.

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I got cocky.  Thought I was untouchable.  Thought I was that guy. I'd been everywhere, done everything for them. Managed, Fired, Hired, Every Damn Thing For Them.

Funny how they dispose of you.  Your need and place is done.  My one last laugh is that both of these places are closed now. RiRa back in June 2015, and the CIP in November. my only regret is those that I left behind, trying to do something better.

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BTW, its so good to see you again.  all of our friends are thinking about us.