Malaise

I have nothing to say. I mean, yes, there is baseball at Fenway today, but the situation sucks. Instead of sitting in a bar, I will be sitting at my desk, without Jerry Remy or Don Orsillo anywhere within earshot. I can watch the game in 2 when I get home, but it's not the same as knowing you're skipping work to enjoy the official beginning of the Red Sox season. Our boys are back for summer, and I will have ample opportunity to watch games in bars (especially since I won't have cable at my new place) other days, but it is sad to miss the first. But I have to save my vacation time for moving and my birthday in July.

It seems odd that I should be struck with malaise at this time of year. Trees have buds on them, waiting to explode into leaves. Flowers are coming up from the ground. I am wearing my super-fun wedge sandals again. I'm just bored. I can't pay attention to anything, I can't decide what to do with myself. I don't know if a class or a hobby would help, but I feel stuck. I'd hoped my trip to Italy would kind of shake me loose from my rut, but it honestly feels like I never left, what with all the dramatics that ensued when I got back. Should I move? Should I take up knitting? Should I quit my job and become a Narragansett Beer promoter? I know I should be writing something, but nothing seems to be happening. This blog's content sucks. I am capable of better, and it's disappointing to say the same thing over and over. "Hey, George Bush is a moron." "Look at this cool picture of Rhode Island." "I got screwed over by a boy. Again. Some more." "I saw an asshole on the train. I KNOW!" I don't know if I'm forcing myself into writing stuff for this site when I have nothing to say. Should I write on here less, and write only when I have something that's eloquently put?

See? I've resorted to rhetorical questions. I'm going to try to hire a mover now.