In a funk

It has been brought to my attention that it's been two weeks since I last posted something on my blog and that is longer than I am allowed to go. You, dear readers, are a insatiable bunch.

But I am in a funk. And I don't use the word "funk" lightly since July 2nd, 1979. The day the funk died.

My hours at work were cut in half a couple weeks ago. I'm still feeling angry/depressed about it, even though I understand the company's decision. I could go on and on about this (some of you can already attest to that), but I don't believe it's wise to publicly bad-mouth my employer. So yeah, just know that I am not pleased with my current work situation.

It's not about the money. Trevor left his work to do comedy full-time a couple months ago, which has had it's own ups and downs, so we are mostly living off of savings for the time being. However, there are promising things in the future for both me and Trevor; I think we should be okay financially. But I just feel so purposeless. I know I should fill up the extra time in my schedule with something worthwhile, but I mostly just sleep more. Like a ton. I need to feel excited about something again. Not that I've been excited about work much in the last year or so, but it at least passed the time.

I don't really get fireworks. They're kind of neat. And it is nice to have an excuse to be out on warm summer nights because I love those. And I'm all for celebrating the day Will Smith and Jeff Goldblum saved us from alien invaders. But still...what are you supposed to be thinking about when watching fireworks? Oh! Noise and light! Oh! More noise and light! And they are essentially the same thing year after year after year.

I was going to title this post "I'm not living. I'm just killing time." But apparently I had a post titled that back in January '07. It's a song lyric that's really stuck with me over the years, I guess.