The things you think at one in the morning.

I'm sitting here in the spare bedroom of my grandparents house. I don't really know what to type. I don't even know why I really started to type. I suppose it has something to do with having someone to talk to. Unfortunately for me, I don't have that someone to talk to. Nobody understands. I try to talk to them, but they interject with their own thoughts and feelings. Fuck that. I don't want that. I just want somebody to listen to what I have to say, and occasionally provide worthwhile insight and maybe a suggestion or two. Due to the fact that I haven't found that someone yet, I'm here typing.

I'm twenty-two. I'm not going to be so pompous as to say that I know more than anyone else or have experienced more than anyone else, however I will be so pompous as to say that I know and have experienced more than most of my peers, with experience being, not in terms of employment and education, but being of life in general. Back in December I moved back in with my grandparents because my grandfather got hit by a car and somebody, in my mind at least, should be here to do the things that they need to have done. I was one week away from leaving PA, slated to move down to South Carolina to be with my girlfriend and attempt to get a job working in law enforcement. Hiatus. My girlfriend and I have been dating on and off for almost three years now. She lives about seven-hundred seventy-five miles away. A twelve hour drive. I see her anywhere from once a month to once every three months, and one time when we weren't together, once a year. She doesn't 'get' me, or at least she doesn't listen to me. I love her to death, but she seems like she's off in her own world. I work as a security guard in a shitty private community in the Pocono Mountains. I'm a step between mall cop and real cop. I conduct traffic stops, go to medical calls, respond to domestics, to fights, to burglaries, to just about everything. I make eleven dollars an hour. Chump change. I could make the same being a fucking short order cook and not have to worry about dealing with ignorant people on a daily basis, not have to put my life on the line, not have to give anybody cpr, not have to carry a gun, not have to worry about a fucking thing except getting somebody's greasy food cooked to order. I'm broke. No money, nada. I went to buy a cup of coffee, a pack of smokes, and an ice cream at the local gas station. Turned down. Card wouldn't go through. Broke. I make enough to pay my bills, but every so often something comes around that requires me to pay out the ass. Usually it's my car breaking somehow. Sometimes it's me spending money to drive down and visit my girlfriend to put an end to the non-stop bitching she does about why I don't drive down to see her more than I do. But enough about that.

I want to turn it around. I want to change everything in my life. I'm not happy with anything. I know I need to do things differently, but I don't have the energy to. I don't have the desire, the drive to make myself better. I want to, but I can't bring myself to. I want to move back into my apartment and save by not having to drive an hour to and from work everyday, but who what of my grandparents? I want to leave my girlfriend so I don't have to have her bring me down anymore, but I love her. I want to go to college, but I don't have the money. I want to exercise, but I barely have the energy to get out of bed. I want to make something of myself, but the longer it takes for me to do that the less of a chance I have to.

I suppose you can consider this my notice to the world that Brad is going to start doing whatever it takes for him to be happy, or at least to stop feeling like shit every fucking day. The times, they are a changing...