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8-17-01 - 3:19 p.m. It's 83 degrees and I've had a line from a Saturday Night Live sketch going through my head all day long. Connoisseurs of the series will recall the recently re-run Conan O'Brien episode in which O'Brien played a Superman-esque superhero known as Moleculo: The Molecular Man. Every time someone says "Moleculo" in the sketch, O'Brien's character appears on the scene to shout, "THE MOLECULAR MAN!" in a pompous tone. It's really stupid and hilarious and I've been saying "THE MOLECULAR MAN!" all day at odd intervals. I'm depressed. Why am I depressed? I (currently) have no reason to be unhappy. I'm pretty much living with someone who genuinely cares about me, I have money, a great apartment, a few acquaintances (so what if they're all gay men?), tickets to Madonna and TMBG, the best car ever to roll off an assembly line, I'm very smart, have a loving adoptive family (even if I choose to ignore that)...I have a life I know other people would kill to have. So why can't I be happy?! I get so frustrated with myself that I can't stand it. I hate being this way. So I end up feigning contentment in an effort to not have to deal with it. I know that if I let people see that I'm not happy, they'll want to help me. They'll ask me what's wrong, and when I tell them I don't know, they'll ask again as though I didn't hear the question the first time around. When I'm upset, people seem to think that the best way to fix whatever's wrong is to treat me like a halfwit. Or like a stupid dog. "What's the matter, honey?" Thank you, Suzy Starshine, but no. Alright, so maybe it's not that bad all the time. But I have been offered ice cream. My main problem is I'm anxious. I'm not happy, but I don't know why. I hate not knowing the answer to things, so I feel stupid and get really frustrated with myself. Frustration makes me want to go and do something, but I don't have a job and there's nothing really productive to do, so I feel lazy, like I should be doing something even though all I'm doing is sitting around being a lazy slob, so I get anxious and restless. When I get this anxious and restless, I want to do one of two things: get drunk or cut. But I'm not going to do either of those because I have company. It's impolite to mess yourself up in front of guests. I have cleaned my bathroom (toilet, shower, sink, floor, mirrors-everything) twice this week. I do my kitchen once or twice a day, and have become a windows/dusting freak. Needless to say, my apartment is completely spotless. It's all I have to do. I hesitate to get a job because I'm suppose to be relaxing. And I know that if I start working I won't be relaxed...like I am now...or something. Laurie's coming over in a few minutes. Hopefully we'll make more progress. At least it's something to do. I think Bryan's okay. Or at least, he will be. He called his mom earlier and they talked for a bit, so hopefully that front has cooled down some. He mostly has been watching my Britney Spears videos, and wants to help me help Laurie learn the dance. He helped Rob cut his hair this morning, after the Young Gentleman refused to go see a professional. It was getting long and uneven and very Kurt Cobain, but now it's back to normal. Bryan's such an amazing guy. Just hope his parents can remember that. I need water.
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