Watching Paint Dry

Unemployment: Day 2. Man, this is boring. I like time off as much as the next guy, but seriously, this sucks. This posting is probably gonna be pretty dull. I don't really have a whole lot to say, since, well, I haven't done anything this week. I wish we had cable. Grrr....
I keep telling myself I'm gonna get up early some day and take the train out to Montauk. Or Baltimore. Or DC. Anywhere. But then I shrug my shoulders and lay back down on the couch.
These entries are getting stupid. I'm not Carrie Bradshaw. No one gives a shit about my sexual escapades. So that's resolution number two. No more drunk stories, no more girl stories. What the hell am I supposed to write about?! When you're a single, 25 year old male, getting drunk and chasing tail is your purpose in life. The casual observer would suggest I write about my passions. Well, if you know me at all, then you know I've always hated the question, "what are you passionate about?" It's unfair. The only people who can give a satisfactory answer to that question are artists, musicians, and people who work with retarded kids. I'm not really passionate about anything. I'm just a collection of casual interests. I like music. I like writing. I like living in NYC. I like a lot of things. We'll just have to see, I guess.