Ch-ch-ch-changes

I've reached a low point...blogging outside of work. This whole thing began with me being bored as all hell one day and with no websites left to search, no paper left to file, I turned to you, my blog. Is this a one time thing? Probably. I have dial up at home, it takes 10 minutes to go from one web page to another. In fact, my internet just shut down and I had to restart. I'm resiliant like that. So here I go-
I came home tonight, ready to watch the OC which my roommate taped for me, and felt no desire whatsoever to get my weekly sneak peak into the lives of Ryan, Seth, et al. Me, not wanting to watch tv- something has changed. Question is- will it last? It feels kind of weird not following story lines...I've pretty much stopped watching shows regularly w/in the last month. Does this mean maybe my life is becoming more interesting, thus rendering the storylines on tv (Ryan dating Caleb's secret/not so long lost daughter? Marisa dabbling in lesbianism? And the list goes on...) useless to me? Doubtful. But something has changed. I've been trying to keep busy, I realize the less I do, the more depressed I get. It gives my head too much time to obsess over every mundane thought, focusing mainly on the negative ones. What can I say, I'm a glass half empty kind of girl. If I tried to change this, would I still be me? I can't be happy all the time, it's just not in the cards for me. I do get jealous that some people can, but then the bitter/b*tchy side of me convinces myself that they're not really happy, they're not self aware, they're just faking it. See- glass half empty. Like feeling pain means more than feeling pleasure. Like it's deeper. Because it's always the tortured artist. Van Gogh cut his ear off. Pollock was an alcholic. Mozart was deaf. Maybe I'm completely off here, but are there stories of the artist with the happy childhood, all body parts in place and working, not suffering from debilitating depression? It just wouldn't feel the same, right? Now, if only I were an artist...
Sure. I can't even paint a square. Really, I tried once, decided to make a picture of many different colored squares and I failed. I guess I shouldn't care, it wasn't a great idea in the first place. So I'm not a painter.
I have to do the dishes now. I haven't washed them in days. That's disgusting.
R.