Blues Ballad

Ever have one of those days where if you were left to your own devices you might do something bad to yourself? Unfortunately I have them all too often. Fortunately I am rarely ever all alone so I never have an opportunity to act on those urges. And when I do get some time alone I have to get rid of other urges, if you know what I mean, wink wick nudge nudge. (I don't care to have anyone think that I am running power tools in my bedroom.) Yesterday I had an attack of the this-is-my-life-what-if-it-never-gets-any-better's. I looked around at my sub-par house, crammed to the gills with junk, little messes everywhere that only I seem to see, and realized that my job is being the house gimp. I shook my fist over my empty wallet that has no hope of having anything in it anytime soon and fumed over the slowness of the SSA, it being an estimated 18-24 months to hear about my appeal and even then I will probably only get another court date that will take another 2 years to get to. I was witness to my little sister and her fiance's tittering lovey-dovey crap that made me realize I am probably going to be single for a llloooonnnnnggggg time, which doesn't usually bother me too much, but sometimes I wouldn't mind someone in my life. I don't see anyway to remedy that problem as I go to bed at 10 and never do anything where I would meet anyone. I also am not sure of what my market value would be as I have no job, no income, in the process of a divorce, still fighting the SSA and we have a no-strange-boys-in-the-house policy here, so they can't come over. The antibiotics are wreaking havoc on my poor guts so that I feel chained to a bathroom and I still have 7 more days of them. I swear I lost some entrails the other day and I threatened my guts with Pepto Bismal if they didn't knock it off. So I think there may be a (tentative) peace treaty there for now. My little sister is convinced that the large hadron collider is going to be the end of the world so we ate at a buffet yesterday that was so good I blew my diet sky high and am dreading trying to get into my jeans today. (I rarely eat out and try to eat healthy so eating at a buffet is a huge thing for me.) I'm feeling cross, like I could use a man (EEEEEEKKK!), that there has to be more to life than this, and that I may very well lose my intestines if things don't get better. For some reason I kind of want to keep my intestines; I'm rather attached to them. I wanted to go run around yesterday but my little sister and her man needed to go do stuff too, so we carpooled to save gas. I was subjected to the most maudlin, depressing country music that made me feel like I needed to get a banjo and twang out a song about my own blues.

My house is a mess
(da da da da)
I'm gettin' lonely, I must confess.
(da da da da)
Ain't got no money to my name
(da da da da)
Cuz the SSA keeps playin' their game.
I got poor-as-dirt-no-man-for-meeeeee blues!

I could go into more verses but I don't want to spread the maudlin, sappy blues and make you want to play the spoons along with my song. Although that would be one hot band if we did. Hmmm, wonder what venues would want an act that has to end by 10 because that is my bedtime.