Yeah, however sad that seems I can't really say it's all that believable. I mean, you can't be that asocial man, at the most basic we crave company of some sort, you could've done so much with that time and ended up a better person for it, let alone met new people and not lied to your father but instead you waste it on sleeping uncomfortably.
Then again, I'm the guy whose mother keeps asking about a girlfriend to which a resounding MEH is heard from me every time. No amount of sarcasm, prodding or anything will ever force me to go and fundamentally change the way I work around females mom, so stop bothering please.
Anyways, more sad stuff. Last week could be considered sad I guess, was feeling rather tired the whole time, despite getting some really good sleep hours for the first time in I don't know how long (went to bed before midnight even!). Just that prevailing mental exhaustion that came out of nowhere and sapped any and all will to be productive. Then I find out that one of my best friends might be having an unplanned child, which is good news in essence I guess, but they're both college kids at 20 years of age and are completely and totally unprepared for something of this magnitude. Then I went out with some friends, drank some truly awful wine which is still churning my stomach, then went and spent some time with people I don't really like, at all, amongst them my other roommate, also found out that another good friend (the one I dreamt I killed the night before) is rather more messed up emotionally than I suspected in regards to his breaking up with his long time girlfriend (4 years iirc) and that the whole situation is extremely messy to the point of being morbidly fascinating to behold and pry apart, something I hate doing because I hate getting involved into other peoples' emotional shitstorms.
And to top the entire week off my parents say they might be coming around on Tuesday, to see me, and to have another talk. Now I've been having enough trouble coping with the realization that my one shot at an art career might have been indefinitely postponed by a harsh slap in the face that neatly cut down any and all confidence I'd built up over the past few months. But having a second round of that? No thank you parents, I can drop into a depression by myself just fine, no need for you to push me even more by droning about the same shit you've droned about for the past six years about having to work and sacrifice everything for a stable income and how other people have it bad and how I'll have no future of any sort if I try and do what I love and all that shit that never actually worked in motivating me. But again, you won't listen and I'll just get irritated and you'll once again wonder why I don't like talking to you anymore. Then you'll probably leave dissappointed and I'll be stuck with another round of "feeling like a dirty parasite" on my hands.