Today I tried three times to get my shit organized so I could at least start writing the stories I have been telling myself to write over the last few years. For some reason when I am bummed out I don’t feel like doing anything. SO, today and most of the weekend was wasted watching television. What’s worse is there really wasn’t anything worth watching. I miss my old life. I always had something to do or someone to hang out with. Now is seems I’m on house arrest. I know this because all of my blog entries for the last few months have been pretty bleak. Even the kooks on the bus have stopped bothering me. Well almost. Last Wednesday I wanted to throw a guys phone out the window. He was talking so loud the whole bus could hear him and all his conversation consisted of was getting his mom to like him now that he has been straight and sober for a whole three weeks. Personally, I prefer drunks and addicts over recovering drunks and addicts for the simple reason that drunks and addicts don’t feel like they have to tell you their story. Recovering addicts and shit heads feel they have to tell everyone within shouting distance how fucked up they were and how usually Jesus and jail saved their life. I know it’s a step in their recovery process, but I don’t give a shit. If you are dumb enough to get hooked on something that’s bad for you then deal with it. As far as I am concerned addiction is weakness. If you are weak then you need to put on your big boy pants and fix your problems. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know some drugs are hard to kick, but hey! Even three year old kids know drugs are bad. If you decide to start a lifelong habit then you are dumber than a three year old. Anyway, this dumbass seemed to have burned some bridges in the past and was hell bent of making up with of those people while sitting next to me on the bus. It was one of those days when the bus was taking forever to get down the road and all I wanted to do was ask to see his phone so I could toss it out the window. Then again, now I know that no matter how bad my life gets fucked up and half flushed down the toilet, as long as these shit heads can get by, I can get by. So I guess the freaks on the bus can act like a life gauge. When they start dropping off I need to duck, but as long as they are out on droves, things will be OK. I just hope I don’t end up riding the bus and drooling on my bag of clothes for a living.