Wednesday, March 23, 2005

P.O. Box and a Pager

This is the second of the two reprints from my old website that I've chosen to put up here so you can learn where I came from. Again, I will be paraphrasing myself due to the language I used at that time. So here you go, enjoy!

PO Box and a Pager written Tuesday, June 13, 2000

Well, here I go off on another one.
You ever notice how funny life can be sometimes? Especially when it comes up with those quirky little moments that just bite you in the rear end and show you how much you aren't in control. It's just funny how thing like that happen sometimes.
They happen mostly just to keep you on your toes I suppose. Things are really a mess sometimes though. For instance, let me tell you how messed up, well ok, maybe not messed up, but how goofy my life has been lately.
To begin with, I must explain exactly what my life is right now. My life consists of a P.O. Box and a pager. Doesn't make sense, does it? Well, let me explain. You see, at this point in time, I do not have a place to live. I have been bouncing back and forth between so many houses since I've been back in Oklahoma City and still dont' have a place of my own. To tell you the truth, it's not that I can't afford because I'm pretty sure I make enough money to afford a place to live. I just haven't bothered to go through the process of actually looking for a place to live. Not quite laziness you see, it's just that I've been so busy with other matters in my life that I haven't gotten around to it. So basically, I just live in my car and at other people's houses, wherever I can find room. So I don't have a permanent residence, hence the P.O. Box. Very sad, I agree. So, no residence, hence no phone, therein comes the pager so that people who for some reason decide they need to get in touch with me can do so. So my pager, that's my phone.
So here I am, no house, no phone, just a P.O. Box and pager, hence the clever title for this rant. Actually, there is a house that I keep most of my stuff at, since I can't exactly store all of my stuff in my car. Maybe I should buy a truck or sport utility vehicle and than I wouldn't even need to borrow the space at that house. So, I have a place to store my stuff. But I rarely, if ever, stay at this house to sleep at. When I do, I sleep on the couch. Actually, everywhere I go I end up sleeping on the couch. Or on the floor. Or in somebody's chair or loveseat, whatever they have that I can sit on and sleep. The last couple of days I've been sleeping in a bed, but it looks like I might be going back to couches. Oh well, not like I'm used to it.
So, let me re-itereate some major points. Life is goofy. I'm nothing more than a P.O Box and a pager. Oh yeah, and a car. Can't forget the car. So I'm a car, a P.O. Box and a pager. As pathetic as this all sounds. I'm fairly content with it for now. Lately, I've been pretty content with the way things are going. I haven't had any really major gripes in a while. However, even though I am content with my quasi-existence (cool term, huh?) I am starting to realize that there is something wrong with this life I'm leading. Although usually I don't really care what other people think. This particular idea is starting to make me wonder: Should I get a life and let things happen as they happen and take them for what they are? Or should I disregard all this and continue the way I'm going? Interesting food for thought. Very perplexing.

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