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Date #2: Dinner, drinks, karaoke. Seems I've lost my flair for the romantic. I've moved from the realm of wow's to the mundane routine of a guy about to turn old (30). Midlife crises are supposed to happen at 40, but that only works for women...on average, men still bite the bullet closer to 70. I'd rather round down so I can actually do something about my feelings of worthlessness. Why wait an extra ten years? This writing project is just a small part of piecing together what I'm about versus what should be. We'll see what comes of it.
When it rains, it pours.
Since things went sour with J two weeks ago, I've switched jobs, started dating again, and even went to the gym on Saturday after a month-long hiatus...and that's a real god-send because I've not been eating well. Friends I hadn't heard from in a while have inexplicably started calling again. It seems like she flipped a switch somewhere in the building, lighting the neon signs outside that I forgot even existed.
In reality it was a whirlwind relationship that left as abruptly as it came, but in a good way...just like a tornado in reverse.
I met a friend last night that I hadn't seen for a couple months. Dinner near Union Square, then drinks at a bar nearby. N's reasonably intelligent, but when it comes to relationships, she turns into a giggly teenager (and plays the same stupid games). She talked about her straightforward advances towards a guy she liked being met with mixed signals. "Example?" Her
signs of interest seemed more like looking through a pint of Guinness...in a can. It just can't be done.
Wish we could watch our lives on a screen so we'd stop ourselves from being stupid sometimes.
It's been 3 months since I last got a haircut. It was the beginning of February and I was about to meet my new boss, so I needed to look somewhat presentable. I wasn't switching jobs but everyone else was back then.
Fast-forward to 10:30 last night: I'm standing before a mirror, clippers in hand. Starting to look like a cast member on "That 70's Show"...it's actually not a bad look for me when I have the time to do something with my hair, but I usually don't. Byebye, hippie hair.
Think I'll need another go at it tonight.
CINCO DE MAYO...yet another reason to put on the party hats and start drinking. It's lost quite a bit of its allure for me recently...drinking, not Cinco de Mayo. Far from the late days of 2004 where beer actually took the place of dinner (2 pitchers usually did the trick), having more than a few these days leaves me feeling deathly ill the following day. And when that day is Tuesday, it's a very unpleasant experience. Friday hangovers are always easier because most minds are already on holiday. Reason enough to knock down a few pints tonight after work. =)
There are some words I look forward to reading every month. It's a bit like watching a tv pilot. Will there be anything to see next month? You're waiting for the next 'episode'...one that may never come. Miss the deadline and you've got another month of waiting...just to read 2800-3100 words, depending.
Did they skip a day?
Was there an accident?
Did whatever that drove them to take part in 100Words suddenly disappear?
Sans e-mail, you'd never know.
I was just starting to get worried...but sometime yesterday, her April batch popped into view.
Thanks for keeping it up.
Date #3 came and went. Didn't try to kiss her, and even steered conversation clear of topics that could be construed as affectionate probing. I've been permanently placed under the
category in her black book...which is exactly what I was looking for. Y is a great person and we have a lot of common interests, but she's the kind of woman I couldn't get romantically involved with. This was the best way to handle things so that we could stay good friends at the end. I love the outdoors but had noone to really share that with until now.
I don't like all the greeting card holidays, but Mother's [and Father's] Day is an exception. We cannot help overlook everything those close to us do to make life bearable, and that's definitely the case with my mother. She's a great woman...not for participating in politics, volunteerism, or even for making heaps of money...but because of her devotion to her family. Although I show my appreciation as much as possible, I wish there were two of these a year so other people could get a clue.
If you're not a complete nutcase, be grateful.
It could have been much worse.
...and once again, it's Monday. Monday's happen a bit too often for my taste. Where did the idea of a seven-day week come from anyway? We should have just stuck to following the sun and the moon...of course the concept of the 24-hour day makes sense...as does loosely following the lunar calendar...but weeks? What's that all about?
I would gladly wade through 20 days of work and have an eight-day [month]end at the end of the work month (with all the requisite holidays and vacation time, of course). Sadly, it's not the time for daydreaming...I should get back to work...
Things have been really busy at the office lately, and I joined just as the shit started hitting the fan. Worked til ten on Mother's Day (that's NOT normal...I'm a 9-to-5er on an average work week), and last night I left the office at 9:30 only to miss my 10:00 bus home. That left me with an hour to down a couple pints of beer and play darts. I've never been good, but with one of the darts substantially heavier, my game was completely off. Sounds uncomfortably like the rest of my life.
Reinvention of self: indefinitely on hold. Bummer...
Got a call from a friend last night about going to the beach this weekend. Has it come to that already? Apparently it's warm enough to play in the sand again, but I've been cooped up in the office too long to even notice...*sigh*.
It would be nice to go to the beach.
It would be nice to hang out with my friends.
But it would NOT be nice to play during the weekend and have deja-vu next week...the only breaks in work taking place when the brain stops functioning and I need to sleep (or write my 100 words...).
Well, they're leaving early enough for me to go for a little while and still spend most of the day at the office. S, who invited me, told me to ask Y if she'd come. Strange, since it's Y's sister that's setting the whole thing up (and they live together!). Y's asked her sister about it but was told to come to me. They're still trying a bit to hard to push us together. We've already moved to stable friendship, and I'd hate to see it change from that to something else.
And the little gremlins continue their mischievous games...
Maybe I go to a different weather site than other people, but I see rain in the forecast for tomorrow...nothing but rain. How far would you be willing to drive to hang out on a cold, wet beach for a couple of hours? An hour drive with gas prices being what they are these days doesn't really seem worth it.
Then again, I've never enjoyed hot sunny days on the sand. I just don't mix well with heat...or the sun. Beaches at night have always been my thing. Maybe this will be a close second. I'll find out soon enough...
Didn't rain after all. It wasn't warm enough to hop into the Atlantic, but enough to wear a tank top all day at the beach. I ended up getting badly sunburned.
Even though Y and I are just friends now, I couldn't help feeling bad about taking an interest in another gal that was there. We didn't talk, but at one point we smiled at each other...longer than people do....and for no particular reason. I know I'm reading too much into nothing, but I HAVE TO call one of my friends about her tomorrow. I don't even know her name.
S introduced me to Y just a couple weeks ago and I'm already going back for 'seconds'. She said I should make sure things are platonic between us before I pursue someone else. Didn't think there was anything left to clear up, but I have to defer to her judgment on that.
The last thing I'd let happen is create a misunderstanding between me and Y, so I'll have to sit her down to talk. Chances are she's on the same wavelength and this will just end up making things awkward between us. Sadly, time is not on my side.
If I miss a chance to do something during the weekend, it's another week-long wait before I have time to pursue it. That's the nature of work these days. Get in early, leave at ten so I can fall asleep just as the clock strikes twelve. That's quickly becoming my least favorite number...why is thirteen so unlucky? If there were thirteen hours on a clock...meaning 26 hours in a day, it would mean I'd stay at work even longer. After all, I only leave to sleep when synapses start to lag appreciably. There goes my five minute break from reality...
S emailed me a couple of pictures she took on Saturday. They actually weren't half bad, and now I have something to remember my trip to the beach by besides tender peeling skin (yes, I'm still slathering myself with aloe every day to sooth the pain). Y called a little while ago since it's her day off...so she could actually think of something other than work. We chatted for a little bit but I had to cut things short. Work and allergies are kicking my ass these days. It's back to the daily grind, and there's no end in sight.
Zero to 600 soon...going from debt-free to drowning in it. Such is the world of financing a commercial mortgage. So what does my perfect credit buy me? Who the hell knows anymore? I'm sick of running numbers that other people should be handling. You'd think my family would be doing more of the legwork considering it's their idea, and it's all for their financial security. I don't have the time to work everything out on my own. It's not like things changed overnight: work is the same slimy pink beast it was when I last wrote...a whole 24 hours ago.
What's there to write about when I'm at the office for thirteen hours a day, don't talk to my friends much these days because of it, and am in love limbo? I still need to talk to Y to make sure she knows we're just friends before I can even see if M wants to have anything to do with me.
The real estate deal has fallen through. The selling agent cancelled a little while ago. A larger offer probably was put on the table. If that deal falls through, hopefully I can make the buy for a little less.
"SORRY, you are NOT a winner."
All I wanted was to pop open this bag of rice cakes and chew on the Styrofoam inside for a few. There's a game piece inside...open it to find these words staring at me. What happened to 'You did not win this time. Please try again'. Shit, even my groceries are getting bitchy these days. Next thing you know they'll be packed with 'Your momma so fat' jokes...even if you DO win. Written by bitter little bastards that aren't allowed to play, so why make it fun for anyone else? I'm a loser baby...
I should have been at work all day. I should have been putting in my usual 13 hours and dragging myself home at midnight, exhausted. But it's Saturday! I also should NOT be thinking about work during the weekend in the first place...useless banter from a run-of-the-mill office peon. But it is our right to complain about our situation, regardless of how much better it is for us than our forebears. To bitch is one thing...to do...well, getting sick today was perhaps my subconscious attempt to replace one pain with another. Of course, it could've just been all the alcohol.
I woke up much later than planned. Dragged myself to the office more slowly than I would have liked. I'm getting a lot less work done than I need to.
Drinking a lot more water than I should...just to give me an excuse to walk away from this screen and from all these spreadsheets and numbers and dollars, no sense...no sense at all.
I'm going to have to start going to church again for a better reason to be away from my desk on a Sunday than to run to the bathroom because I'm drowning myself in overpriced bottled water.
I could never understand why people bothered playing the lottery. The chance that you'd win are so insignificantly small that you're just giving up your dollar for the dream...nothing more than that. Just a dream...
How miserable do you have to be to place all your hopes in a crap shoot that's invariably stacked against you? That you'd be willing to forego a slightly nicer dinner than McDonalds or Burger King...just to feed a fantasy? It's the new religion. Play long enough and you'll get your reward?!? People love playing against the odds. I bought a ticket this morning. Sad.
Just when I thought I was getting the hang of my new job and understood what was expected of me, my boss turned everything upside-down last night. I was developing some weird eye twitch and was ready to call it an early night when she came over at nine to dump all the information I needed two weeks ago...within the space of half an hour. Things at work, which were bad already, have taken a turn for the worse. All those late nights at the office so far turned out to be a complete waste. Nervous breakdown, here I come.
Back at my desk. I've had lunch, and a bit too much of it. Looking for excuses not to jump back into the mess of work waiting for me. Will it ever be done? Deadline's Wednesday for everything to be handed in, and it still feels like I'm on day 3 of this effort instead of week 3. I suppose this is something akin to stages of coping. I zipped through denial, anger, bargaining, and depression, and now I'm solidly in acceptance of this fate...this just isn't getting done in time. Now what did I do with that damned resume?
Two bananas for dinner and a Red Bull to wash it down and keep me awake. It's ten now. I'll do a little more work before calling it a night. A three-day weekend comes...and if I don't get into gear, it'll go without me. Thing is, it's supposed to be gorgeous tomorrow. If I left my work for the rest of the weekend, could I play hookie? Of course, that's not remotely possible. I have to spend the day explaining my progress (or lack of) to my coworkers. It's going to be a long long day. Tomorrow's Friday. Lucky me.
My head is pounding. It's not even one yet, but my body's thinking it's closing time. Four hours left to ask all the questions I need to before everyone else disappears for the long weekend...as if they'll actually stick around until five on a day like today...at the start of a weekend like this. I see signs of 'Fleet Week' around town...sailors from all over the world here for a quick fling before heading out to sea again. I'd like to slap the smiles off of their faces and get into a good old-fashioned brawl. Yeah, as if I'd win...
So I have a weekend-full of work to accomplish and not enough of the tools to do the task. Of course there was no way to get all the work done, but I should be slaving away to get as far as possible. Instead it's "Okay...um, lessee...yes, this sounds about right...Next!" I wonder if everyone else is making as many wild guesses as I am to get this in on time. It'll be interesting when the model spits out the final numbers. I wonder who'll be most embarrassed...the brass sitting atop the machine or the monkeys pushing random keys below?
Time's winding down...on the month and my deadline at work. On reflection, maybe it's just better if I don't submit anything at all. Looking back at some of this month's entries, I just have to say that last month was better.
"...but you didn't publish last month's entries."
"Doesn't mean I didn't write them."
"...but you're only saying that because nobody can read them."
"That's bullshit and you know it. There's always a way to get to the information you're looking for, if you try hard enough. Most people just don't give a rat's ass..."
I definitely could care less.
Pocket full...of money and the promise of. Comprising metal shards and wood shavings, plastic cards and scratch-off tickets, this is my existence.
I have to get through this one day at a time. I don't have the strength to think any further than that...no, even shorter. I have to stay awake for the entire hour. I'll worry about the next one when it comes.
But words come slowly. They all feel so foreign. The only one that sounds right is
. I will, when this hour is over. I will...
When you're working every day for any length of time, they start to blend into each other. You start losing track of which day of the week it is. The only reason I know the date is because of 100words. This is one of the few outlets I have left when I have no time for friends. No time to hang out with them... no time to even talk to them on the phone. When I write my words, my desk-bound existence takes on some semblance of life. Even one lived vicariously through the written word...100 words, to be exact.
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