on a sunday...

i woke up as usual around five. [can't seem to break that early morning habit after seven years of it from work.]

i went to publix around seven and bought toaster strudels, lasagna, chips, green olives, feta cheese, and clausan pickles.

came home, ate some pickles, went to my room.

sifted through random sopranos season six episodes, the ones i really enjoyed above the rest, and went onto season three of smallville.

around ten or eleven, i got a bug up my ass and decided, it's time to overhall clean the garage.

i took everything out, swept it completely, mopped it, re-arranged all of my tools and chemicals, threw away a ton of shit that was collecting major space, and then, fixed up my bike, and went for a ride.

came back twenty minutes later, cleaned the house a little, took a shower, layed down with the dog, and watched more smallville.

and that's my day thus far as of 8:42 p.m. i'm getting old, and sad. it just hit me that i will be turning twenty seven in a week and a half. i knew it was coming up, but it didn't seem so soon.

time flys as you get older. and all i look forward to in life, is going to work, earning an honest pay from it, coming home to hang out with my dog, play videogames, have a few beers, and watch tv shows on either my computer or dvd. i have no other goals in life, and for some sad reason... that's comforting... and i haven't had sex since january and today i thought, "i'm okay with that."

it's funny how the stupid shit that mattered to me the most seven years ago is close to meaningless now. yesterday was the first day i masturbated in probably a month. i don't even have the urge to do that anymore. and yet, when i'm around people, that kinda shit is all i talk about... strange...