lawyering

I must've not blogged this satisfactorily before, so I will recap here before I go on.
( quite boring traffic tickets stories )

So Z's best friend from forever ago (they're very cute in their First Communion photo together; Z's making his idiot camera-face, which he still does, and his friend's head is ginormous atop his tiny body) saw where I blogged about that earlier, and emailed me-- Uh, he said, you do know that I'm a lawyer? I'll come to court with you, and if nothing else it'll save you three hours of sitting.
Oh, I said, I don't want to be any trouble. I don't like to be the pulling-strings sort.
I have to be there that night anyway, he said. I have another client with a court date that night. Dude, let me at least help you out while I'm there.
( It's nice to have Connections but I sound like a total twat when I say that. )

We'll have to go drinking this weekend. There's too much stress going around, locally. I sometimes worry-- if I'm this stressed with a job that doesn't require any braincells from me, how bad would it be if I had a real career? Eugh.

AAARRGGHH

I am behind on everything and nothing is interesting and I don't want to do any of it and I actually have over twenty tabs open in Firefox and I keep going through them looking for things I can say, "Done," with, and close, and there's nothing, it's all things I ought to have a look at, and that's not even counting my email.

And I'm Just Not Interested in any of it. I have to get going on four thousand things-- have to finish the goddamned fucking return thing for the dishwasher which has taken over a year now, have to write up intro lines for roller derby (like I fucking care-- just print my name and be done with it, I don't give a shit what cutesy bullshit it says about me, I couldn't care less and cribbed my bio from Wikipedia), and like an idiot I felt guilty that other people were doing so much so I volunteered to do all kinds of crap for roller derby and what was I thinking? I can't even live my own life! So it's been literally over a month that I've been meaning to give people their equipment and get the money back, but some of it fell out of the shitty plastic bag I had it in, and now I can't find the locking washers for Sweets' toe stops, so I can't exactly charge her for them, and I don't remember who else ordered anything because it was on a piece of paper that got destroyed when my water bottle opened in my skate bag. And I never even got around to ASKING people to pay up for the captains' gifts like everyone said they wanted to-- anyone who hasn't come up to me and said "here" isn't going to get nagged because I don't nag, but it means I'm out $50. WHATEVER. I don't care.
Deep breath.
But there's more! There are more things that I am not doing that I should have done already, and I am not an interesting person at all, and I am not even interested in my own life, and while I still delude myself that I'm going to be a writer, I have not written more than one sentence of fiction of any stripe in nearly two weeks now I would venture, and I want to start this bra business? Hah, in what time? I am only working four days this week and somehow yesterday went by without me getting one single damn thing done!
And I am supposed to be at the post office right now and I'm not there yet.

I do not have time to do this. I may secede from the Internet. If you comment and I don't get back to you, it is because I am mentally dead.

And the worst part is that my life is so goddamned bloody uninteresting and yet is so cluttered with bullshit that I don't have time to notice that.

Lest anyone misunderstand my mental state, I should post a photo of my room. Would you believe that cleaning it is not even on my to-do list?
But taking and posting a photo would be effort, and time I don't have, and I've just wasted five minutes of my life writing this.