How much wasted time?

Sometimes I can't sleep thinking about all the time and days I've wasted. Being lazy, being drunk, being foolish and in love with some random person again... somedays I wake up from a falling dream and I think that I will never match the level of potential everyone else has for me. Including myself. But I've had a lot of fun. I've done a lot of traveling. Should it matter that I'm not some big published author. I've finished a book. I mean, I read it alot. I like it. I'm successful in small ways and big in my head. I feel like I can put everything off indefinitely because me and God got something going on. We have a secret. And that secret is that I can fuck around and screw up and ignore the calling because I have all the time in the World. I don't know if anyone else knew that. But I'm invincible. That's what Gods been keeping to himself. I wake up and I know that unless I really force it Wednesday is going to be just like Tuesday was and Tuesday was synonymous with Monday and was that Monday or Sunday that was Saturday? I'm tired of wasting time, and moments and minutes on any of this. I'm going to use my life to live and not just float...But where do I start?

Catching Up; Tried in Tride

Okay...I need to get back to a regular writing regime starting tonight. I haven't been on here in MONTHS! I've completely neglected to write about my time spent in Telluride Colorado. From November to April which I can some up like this:

Number of alcohol units consumed: Countless
Number of Sexual partners: anywhere between 5 and 8-ish
Number of meaningful romantic connections: 0
Number of jobs at the beginning: 3
Number by the end: 0
Number of illegal substances abused: 3
Number of combined times: 65+
Number of friends made: maybe 25
Number of shitty friends lost: 5
Number of times I talked to my mom: 40-ish
Number of times I talked to my dad: 1
Number of times I woke up somewhere other than my apartment: Countless
Number of Dinner parties had: 20
Number of Michael Jackson contests I won: 1
Number of times I got sick: 3
Number of times I went naked cliff diving: 1
Number of days I lasted as a ski lift op: 45
Number of dollars I spent on booze and bullshit: Countless
Number of dollars I came home with: 25
Number of mini vacations taken: 4
Number of times I think about that time with regret: Countless
Number of times I realize I had the time of my life: Countless

So there it is. Telluride Colorado and me. Yes I moved there (sort of) to be nearer to a boy (of course) which totally proved futile because as one of my less popular loves once texted me "People don't come to T-ride for relationships". If only I had known then. Someday we'll sit down and go through all of the lovers and awkward moments and missed connections of that time...but until then onto the future.

I came running back home two weeks early, rent late and penniless ready to start all over in Omaha. Celebrated my 25th birthday, kicked a cheating boyfriend and shitty "best friend" to the curb, worked at Julios Tex mex, had a great run at the Theatre COnference slept with an actor there, three weeks later slept with another...a local one this time which only runs into trouble...broke up with him three weeks after that b/c he was watching me sleep (weird) he went off to shoot a movie and now Im here hooking up with a hippie musican and loving it and spending my only day off screwing around on the internet, still mourning the loss of my idol Michael Jackson and wondering what it all means...