DAVE.
I miss home. Not because it's warm and comfortable. I mean, I miss that, too, don't get me wrong. I miss the glitz of Eagan Hills. I miss the dance clubs and the glow in the dark cocktails. But mostly, I miss not having this like...clusterfuck of cultures colliding. It's exhausting. For me, probably also for them since I'm such a loudmouth.
Like I'm just ready to go back to the moon, for real. This place sucks on so, so many levels, but the psychological one is the one that's getting to me the most.
Also, I miss my pool. I have a great pool. And my closet full of clothes that are actually flattering.
And my sex life. I liked having that, too, and now it's so limited. Sara's hot, no doubt, I'm totally going to do the things, but I miss having like...you know. Options. Example: I really miss the huge selection of your bisexual male fans who think hooking up with me will get them closer to you. That's a thing I do, sometimes. It never gets them anywhere, but it's fun. Probably highly unprofessional. ...almost definitely unprofessional. Sometimes I'm opportunistic, what can I say? I'm actually nowhere near as professional as you think I am...I'm not even sure I'm very good at my job so much as I'm comfortable in the rhythm the job is in right now. Or back home. Whichever is more accurate, I guess.
...I can't stop. I'd be saying all of this in person except that I don't feel like getting off my ass to be within less than shouting distance.
Pretty sure this is an experiment. This is an experiment, right? Cuz I'm pretty forthcoming usually but not like this.