Bein' Andy Dufresne's Bitch

You know that scene in Shawshank Redemption where Andy Dufresne tells Red all about his plan to go to Mexico when he gets out of prison and then he gets all pissy and says, "You either have to get busy livin' or get busy dyin'," and then he spend the rest of the movie, until he crawls through a poop pipe, walking around like he was just forced to see Whoopi Goldberg naked, but not Sister Act/Ghost Whoopi (which would still be terrible, but survivable), but The View Whoopi? That's kinda how I've felt lately, except a bit backwards. See, I already went to Mexico and I was in college once so I've seen my fair share of fat, ugly girls (not naked, though). No, it's more about that line - "Get busy livin' or get busy dyin'."

I haven't written in awhile because although I can usually turn the mundane into semi-entertaining sarcasm, I can't even find the mundane anymore. I never imagined that sitting around doing nothing would be this horrible. Seriously. I mean, how many times do we as people catch ourselves saying, "Man, if I could just stop and sit and do nothing." Well, don't. This is quite possibly the most boring, monotonous, paint drying on the wall period I have ever had. I mean, this is worse than any movie Adam Sandler has made in the last decade. That bad. I mean, I can't even cruise up and down Main Street whistling at high school girls because there is no main street! And I don't have a car! And what girl thinks bumping to Bob Dylan is fly?

Sure, there have been moments in the last month and a half that haven't been too bad. I finished a book that is started in January. I found a facial moisturizer that has softened the appearance of my face and helped reduce blemishes. And, um, eh, I - oh fucking hell, who am I kidding? The book was less than 200 pages long. And I bought it on my flight back from Mexico, so the first page had a giant sad face drawn on it. And I've had that moisturizer for almost a year now, but I never used it on a regular basis. What the hell kind of events are those?

Truth is, I do nothing all day because there is nothing to do. "Get a job," you say. Picture a town, with nothing. Literally, nothing. Nothing is hiring. Nothing exciting happens. And I'd love to move, but I'm (hopefully) going back to DC in late May/early June. Finding a job and moving within a one and a half month time frame is crazier than Lindsay Lohan finding Jesus (he's not in that pile of Coke, dear). I sleep past noon, get dressed, stare at the wall, sometimes eat, and then do it all again. On top of that, I have so little money that people on welfare drive by my house and laugh at me. It's embarrassing.

Look, one day, when I've settled for a less-than-attractive female and I'm living in a cookie cutter suburb and raising three kids who will end up being like their more than likely ogreish mother-in-law, all while holding down a steady cubicle job which I'll leave one week each year to take the same vacation to Myrtle Beach or Disneyworld, all while having a cat or some small, Chihuahua-like dog that I strongly dislike, driving a minivan, I'm sure I'll laugh about all this and say, "Oh, Ryan, you were so dramatic then! Just look at this perfect life you're leading." This will alllllll be water under the bridge.

I guess the one decision that I've made recently should make me happy, but adds to the confusion, like dressing a seventy year old man up like a woman and setting them up on a date with Richard Simmons by telling him, "Play you cards right and tonight you may be sweatin' on the oldies." But, that decision and the ass-dragging plea that will accompany it will come at a later date.

For know, I'm going to keep on keepin' on, which means trying to get busy livin', unless of course I'm destined to die before I'm 48, which means I'm already gettin' busy dyin', which is about the most bleak thing I can think of. Unless of course, this whole thing does end in me having to crawl through a pipe full of shit. Then that is just the worst thing I can think of.

(Note to self: do not become a plumber)