This will be the ... millionth Saturday in a row that I've had nothing to do. Ok, I'm exaggerating. But seriously. I do nothing, Ever. I'm not really the sort to invite myself out places, nor am I one to instigate or go alone. I am wary of other people and their plans that they may have already made, and I never assume that people have the time or energy to be spent willy nilly on me. I am not really complaining. I enjoy the alone time. It's just become a humdrum aloneness that leaves me feeling meh. I guess I'm better off being alone. Doing everything alone. There's less to give up that way. And I know what to expect. I don't have to interfere with making plans, and breaking plans if one plan disrupts another plan. I can pick up and go at the drop of a hat, to do whatever is beckoned of me by family or whatever it is that I think I am in need of. Being alone gives way to sounding like I'm very selfish. I don't have to worry about anyone else's schedule. That is until I actually have something to do. Then it's five thousand things at once. And then I can't accommodate all or everyone because I'm out of practice. I think I should have one friend that I do everything with. Oh wait, I had that. But it didn't end well. I'm going to go back to being alone now. Maybe think this out a little bit more, so that it seems a bit more concrete. Merky mehrky meh bleh blah.
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