I mean, fuck Putin. I'm glad Dee Snider gave freedom fighters in Ukraine his blessing to use "We're Not Gonna Take It" after saying no to selfish cry-babies. Still, as for blog-blogs (Song of the Days are real blogs, but there's something different with blog-blogs), we'll try again tomorrow.
I've spent the last two hours starting three different blogs (JC Jackson's future, Gilded Age Episode 6 tonight, and the 13th anniversary of the Patriots trading Mike Vrabel and Matt Cassel for the pick that turned into Patrick Chung) before pulling the plug due to a combination of a shitty day and my dissolving mental health. My writing is best when I'm genuinely invested in the topic, and I can't emotionally get there right now. I know I have what it takes to make it as a Barstool blogger (#HireDozo), but I slept less than four hours last night and had a terrible first day back after February Break. I'm not myself and hate what teaching is turning me into; I miss enjoying life, making people laugh, and having fun in general. I feel so fucking alone and like I'm living a lie for the sake of a paycheck and health insurance. I hate teaching where I currently do (it's destroying my creativity) and wanted to change majors back in college, but I wasn't allowed. I'm not supposed to be a teacher. It's not what I was meant to do. I've been trying to fit a square peg in a round hole for years.
Nothing I write right now will make or break my blogging career (well, maybe break it at this rate?), and I feel guilty for not "working" towards my goal when I technically have the time, but your boi is BURNT OUT, even on the heels of a week away from the living hell that is teaching in my state's capital.
If you clicked on this blog and read it, seriously, thank you. I'm too self-deprecating and know that some people do at least click on DOL, and if you're one of those people, it means the world. But I'm just not feeling up to it tonight. I shouldn't have posted a SOD, but I wanted to at least try to write something, especially after only writing six blogs during vacation. Sometimes, I can get my groove back after getting home, but tonight is not one of those nights.
I'm a broken man. I can't take this shit anymore, I wish I could just quit my job and go full send with writing/content, but I need insurance and to lose 200 pounds. I hate who I've become since lockdown started 23.5 months ago. I'm finally going to a doctor in a couple weeks and am serious about potentially getting weight loss surgery. I don't want to continue eating myself to death, but sadly it's like the only thing that brings me joy nowadays, and even that joy is hollow because it almost immediately turns into me getting angry with myself for not being strong enough to change. I need a physical barricade to stop me from eating my emotions. I don't want to be able to physically eat #43burgers. Maybe tomorrow, I'll have it in me to blog for my massive audience of nearly nobody (again, if you read DOL, I appreciate it sooo much, but I'm not having a good day and I feel super guilty even complaining about my life given the state of the world rn...inside dozo, that's something I bitch to my shrink about all the time). I wish I had written more during February break, but I was busy a few days with fam stuff and needed time to sleep and do nothing for the sake of my sanity. I have so much more to say, but I think this is enough for now. Please save my life Pres; nobody will appreciate their opportunity and work harder for the stool than me. Despite this sort of therapeutic release, I've written thousands of "quality" blogs over the last six years and have grown so much as a man from writing. I just need someone to believe in me.