I feel like my life is a tired soap opera. One that people will tune to just to feel good about their other sucky but more interesting and exciting lives.

No sooner had I come back from the high of my Matrix premiere that everyone, every circumstance on this earth decided to suck me back into cold hard unwelcome reality. Now I wonder why are the humans in The Matrix trying to get reality back again, knowing how it sucks why are they fighting, giving their lives, etc, just to get it back, at least programmed life is more certain than this gamble we delve into day by day.

Why are my speaking in parables? The next day, which was Friday was one of those days some clients want you to kiss their asses and get them every single file or document or just console them because they are bankrupt. Idiots. My brother and his wife sent me two emails reprimanding me for wanting to move into my own home. My brother-in-law was just the general fuck up that he is, my sister was being a general polite asshole and my car is acting up, once again. I try to bypass all of this by thinking happy thoughts, you know what kind of happy thoughts I am talking about. But the badness of the day penetrates into Saturday and I am so distraught at the activities of my weekend. I couldn't sleep the night before ( I wonder why with all that activity) and my sister cranked up the AC to some kind of eskimo capacity because she is pregnant in the summertime and can't seem to cool off. I wake up early, rush to several places--car shop, work, etc--and my efforts are defeated for neither one of them is ready for me. Work was locked and my oil change place snubbed me.

I just think all this drama because I am moving out. Are things really that deplorable in my family that they don't want me to go and seek a life of my own? What is this? They are all married, loving their spouses and having fun watching me watching them have fun and live fulfilled lives. If it be this way, what if I choose to move 10 miles away, how much more drama will there be if I decide to move to California, which is really where I want to be?

Now I know why I have this urge, unbearable urge to run away to a place and change my name and start over bringing no one from my past with me. Because of my judgemental, myopic, overbearing family and friends. It may not be San Francisco, a friend of mine already lives there and it is expensive, and it may be Maine since I see the shore so many times in my dream. It may even be England in some remote capacity where there are few friends accessible. Whatever it is...I need to find me, and I know I can't find it in this place. I thought maybe writing Shelia and living vicariously through the lines of her story my life may experience some upliftment or adventure of some kind just like hers. Perhaps that is why I am so disappointed day by day because none of her is me. No matter how I wish for it to be.

I keep remembering that part of Sex and the City where Samantha says, "I love you but I love me MORE."

That can be no further form the truth for indeed that's what I am. A person who loves herself and longs for nourishment of her inner self.