Last night I saw Frank off to Convergence in Washington, DC, where he and some of the guys from Girth & Mirth Indianapolis are making a presentation about their upcoming run. Sean and I are playing bachelor until Monday. Oh, and that's right, I said "their" upcoming run. I've decided to distance myself from the club, at least for now.  Gay men's social clubs have this nasty habit:  once the general membership realizes that actual work is involved in keeping the club going, many of them decide they're not getting enough in return, and the group shrinks down to a handful of guys who end up doing everything.  Well, I'm one of that handful, and I'm getting burnt out.  It's making me dread being around those guys, who make up most of what few friends I have.  That's not cool.

It doesn't help that I'm experiencing what I guess you could call postpartum depression after releasing my album.  The hope of releasing it physically kept me going for three whole years.  Finally I decided against it.  I just couldn't afford to do it now that I'm a homeowner, and I was tired of sitting on it.  When I caught some flak (which I quite possibly deserved) on the Digital Vomit forum about my hopes for the album, it was the last straw.

Right now I'm just living from day to day, going about my routine like a robot, trying not to think about how sick of it I am.