It Moves Fast

So you work a job. It pays well. Hooray! But can it support a college fund? I don't even know what that entails. In fact, do people set up college funds anymore? Maybe the whole world went to shit one day while I was taking a nap. How would I know? After all, I sleep pretty well and maybe I hit the snooze button by accident.

Max, one of my best friends, approached me on the couch last night holding his favorite blue toy in his mouth. Like any great friend, he dumped his slobbery, smelly mess right on my lap. Wagged his tail. I don't think Max expects much of me. I have to put out his food and make sure he gets outside every couple hours to take a leak. But then, Max really expects everything from me, doesn't he? Cause it's not the tangible, easy-to-pour answers that come in a bag. He wants me to be with him. To be with him. Fully present. Fully human. How did it get so hard to do that?

When I was little, before iPhones and Facebook and bills and a College degree, I woke up, wagged my own damn tail and chased after the only thing I wanted more than food and sleep: women. Andrea and Caitlin and Leslie and even Vivienne with the high-pitched voice. I was on a mission all the time for love and attention. Maybe now that I've got all the love I could ever want (read: the woman my dreams could not come close to conjuring), I have nothing to chase?

Like I said, my job pays all my bills and the debt. And like Garrison Keillor said, "Being comfortable makes you stupid."

My band is pretty good. Is it my band?

I don't want to feel better. I don't want to feel numb. I want to know what these feelings are. Name them like Bastian did in the Neverending Story.

Be a doctor, be a teacher, be a musician, be a father, be a mechanic. Be me. Wow. That's so annoyingly trite. But to press on just for shits and giggles, I'm sitting here on a couch next to the world's greatest dog, a phonecall away from the world's greatest girlfriend, a few emails away from the world's greatest bestfriends and I don't know who I am, what I want and how I went from knowing everything to knowing nothing.

I think I'll ask Max. I have a feeling he knows more than he's letting on. Stinky-breath mother fucker with his goddamn floppy ears flopping everywhere. And he's got crazy eyes! They don't go in the same direction for christsake! He's probably a spy. Hahahahahahaha.

If life were easy, it wouldn't be any fun.