I feel weird

I've not been feeling my dandiest lately. I'm not unhappy really... I have a generalized sense of discontent. Like I'm wrapped in a towel that was recently cleaned because someone threw up on it. It's not a bad towel, but I can juuuuset make out the smell of vomit if I put my nose to it. I should be thankful for the towel, 'cause it keeps me dry. But that smell. It's there, I know it.

You get me? Maybe I'm having an existential crisis but I don't know it yet. Here's an example of how I'm doing: I've been a vegetarian for a few years. Somewhere around three. In the past couple of months I've been toying with the idea of just saying, "Fuck it. I want a hot dog." I felt strongly about abstaining from my carnivorous nature. I developed a habit of avoiding meat. But now that's all it is. A habit. For some reason, the passion and nobility I garnered from vegetarianism has faded. Intellectually, I haven't changed my mind. But last week, that "Fuck it" thought won out. I ate hot dogs. And pizza with ham on it. And it was goddamned delicious! I didn't regret it. So now I don't know what I am. I've not eaten meat all week. I'm still running off the habit. But I can take it or leave it.

I'm trying to be creative, but I sit there staring at a blank screen or piece of paper. Without a thought in that pretty head of mine. I think I have writer's block. I can't produce.

And every job I'm looking at to apply for is making me feel shitty about myself. I'm severely underqualified for everything but the shittiest jobs that appear just a little worse than the one I have now. After an hour of searching, my mind seizes up and I need to look at a picture of a kitten on a skateboard or something, just to feel something positive.

Or a kitten in a frog hat. Even better!

I think I have to force myself to get out. Because all I want to do is sit around and watch Toxic Avenger movies. That can't be healthy.

I wish I could focus on reading. I can't even do that! I love to read! It's my go-to activity. But it's boring me. What's up?

Correction: I started reading Sylvia Plath's journals today. Her writing is resonating with me. THAT can't be good!