Meh

You know, I'm a rather moody individual. Many blame it on the fact that I'm a woman, except I think it's not. I'm just moody.

I've been shy all day. Part of that is because I was around crowds of people, but part of it is that I was just feeling shy. Granted, mostly it was people I knew and can talk to one on one, but the group kinda turns me off. I did however, for the first time in the three years I've been at this church, work up the courage to help in the kitchens. Took me ages to get my hands to stop shaking.

Now I'm ... well, moody is how I'd usually call it, except I've already used that term. I hate this mood, and I know I should just crawl into bed, take some painkillers and a sleeping pill and sleep it off. I'll feel better in the morning. The thing is, I don't want to. I'm sick of sleeping.

I sleep too much. It's a commonly known fact. Thing is, I don't have anything better to do and I'm bored. You can only read so long, write so much, stare at the computer or zone out at the wall before you simply go mad. Yeah, I could go clean my house, again, but what's the point? Dirt just gets tracked in, and the roommates leave stuff all over. I'm tired of dealing with their crap, and I told them that but...there isn't much short of cleaning it myself that I can do. And I refuse to do that.

Meh. That really just sums everything up. It's late, so I should sleep but I'm sick of sleeping pills that leave me groggy and grouchy in the morning. I'm sick of reading, even though I just got a book I've been waiting for. Hell, I'm even sick of cleaning my room, and heavens knows it needs it again. I systematically organize things into a corner, then as I much out the corner, the junk destroys what was previously ordered. It keeps me busy, except...I'm bored of doing it. I went walking earlier with my camera, but I lost the light too soon so that left me frustrated.

Oh, and my....I guess he would be my great-uncle, but he's not much older than my parents died on Sunday, his funeral was today. I didn't know him well, in fact the last time I remember seeing him was in 2004 I think, but I called my grandmother to make sure she was alright and...well, the whole thing is just kinda bitter to me.

All my life I've wanted to be close to my family. Actually, to better frame it, I've wanted a family. Technically, I have a huge one. My father has five sib's, there are 11 of us grandkids, and probably near 100 other relatives. I haven't seen any of them in over a year. I haven't spoken to my father in over three, and only one of my sisters that live with him in that time. My mom's side isn't much better. I've seen my aunt once in five years, and my cousin. My mom, paternal grandmother and two aunts are the only that I talk to, and my mom is the only constant I have.

And, I love her to death, but she...well, we disagree on a lot of things. And I end up whining to a small box on a pretend-wood desk that plays music for me.

I always knew I was alone, but in the end? It's not what I want.

I know it's cheesy and pointless, doubly so given that I basically live the life of a hermit, but I want someone. Just a friend who I can go to, whine and cry at, or tease and pester. Someone who'll understand when I just need someone to be there.

Gah. This is ridiculous. I'm going to bed before I end up thinking myself into a do-something-stupid hole. At least staring at the dark ceiling is sorta productive. Meh.