When you asked how I was doing, was that some kind of joke?

So I realized that I haven't been very funny lately. Not just only in the blog, but in real life. I guess that's largely based on the fact that my dad and stepmother don't get my acerbic and pessimistic style of humor that I have crafted. Which is ironic because living with them over the years caused my cynicism.

At any rate, my boredom is starting get, how you say, noticeable. Today, I mixed it up a bit and shoveled out my grandmother's car and house, and we spent 10 minutes talking about how many layers I was wearing and whether or not I should buy a gallon or half gallon of milk at the convenience store. Unfortunately, that took ten minutes because of the guy ahead of me in line buying a welfare check's worth of lottery tickets. A dollar and a dream. Sigh.

At the gym, the highlight was the new hairstyle of the 45 year old, tattooed, breast implanted, scantily clad woman at the gym, who decided that mid January was the perfect time to get a perm. And I fucking noticed it. I've been really enjoying my time at the gym, not only for obvious reasons but because it gets me contact with human beings. And naked men.

I also joined Netflix about two weeks ago, in an attempt to fill some of the many cinematic holes that I have despite being a "movie buff". I knocked off Godfather I and Godfather II and Heat, so I am now allowed to join society. Next three movies up: The Natural, Butch Cassidy and The Sundance Kid, and All the President's Men. So essentially, I'm in love with Robert Redford.

I'm deciding on a bunch of things; what jobs to take, what state to move to, whether or not to go through with those calf implants. I'll be 26 in a couple of months, and I just don't think this itinerant lifestyle is for me. I've been afraid to settle for whatever reason, afraid to commit. Maybe not anymore.