Quote of the day: “This (…) stinks worse than an otyugh covered in sauerkraut on a hot day.” –The Order of the Stick

The van is effectively dead. I tried starting her up this morning and she just made this “murrring” noise then silence every time I turned the key. The supposedly dead gauges flickered to life, waving their antennae back and forth sluggishly like taunting fingers in the face of my happiness. I had Ian drive me to work this morning and will have Heather drive me home. I can use the husband’s car the rest of this week, no biggie there. It’s just that…well, I DON’T FUCKING NEED THIS GODDAMNED SHIT RIGHT NOW, you know?

It’s not like my life hasn’t already been spiraling slowly toward my eventual collapse in a heap of blubbering hatred and despondancy. I mean, I’m not done with the thesis, the weather has been fucking with my joints and my emotions, I’ve found out I’m a step off of being morbidly obese, my job’s status has been called into question far too much recently (that has stabilized, however, and I think I’m safe now), and we’re living on a shoestring which will only get thinner and thinner until this summer when I’m put on “forced vacation” without pay for two months. Getting the van fixed is just another expenditure we don’t need and can’t afford. I owe the school, I owe my brother, I have other bills which need to be paid, and now this. I don’t even know what we’re going to do about the van. If we can’t get it to start at all, that means calling a tow truck (which costs more), and I don’t even know how we’d get a tow truck to the van where it’s parked. We’d have to push it out onto the street or something first.

And the thing is, most people would chalk this up to “the world hates me” or “my god-thing must have a higher purpose in all this” or “what’ve I done to piss off the fates?” and crap like that. Well, you know what? The universe doesn’t fucking care, not that it has emotions anyway, and since there’s no gods or fates or other “higher” critters out there in control of my life, who do I have to blame? No one, really, except for the parts where it’s my fault and responsibility. And I was thinking this morning that most people would rather have at least something to blame for the terror that is their lives because it takes responsibility away from them, it puts everything in a sort of perspective, albeit sadistic seeing as how they choose to believe that something or someone out there is reveling in causing them pain. Freaks. But no, there’s no “world” or “universe” or “gods” or “fates” or “karma” or whatever you want to call it out there controlling or fucking with my life. This is simply life. Life sucks sometimes, life’s fine sometimes, and on seemingly rare occasions, it’s just fine and dandy and wonderful. Life is absurd. We cannot predict stupid shit like what day our car will break or when the weather will or won’t affect our joints or how long the retarded conversations about sports will last at the office. It’s life. It’s absurd and currently it sucks, but my only consolation in all this is knowing that life is absurd and that there’s nothing I can do to stop that. Rather than try to blame everything under the sun (up to and even including the sun), I just say “fuck it,” put on some NIN and get on with my life dealing with things as they come. I’m not going to be happy about it necessarily, but I’m not going to blame something intangible for the sucky state of affairs I find myself in. That’s retarded and irresponsible.

So now that I’ve vented and gotten that out of my system, I’m going to get back to the thesis. I’m working on -o right now. There is some indication that it is related to the Greek intervowel which is so common in modern neologisms which attempt to sound scientific or official. At any rate, the thesis.

Thesis counter: 62/84       Insult of the day: veinard ‘lucky bastard’