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It was supposed to be the last day to rest before work, but our vacation wasn't over. I drove with him patiently while he turned the radio up and unwound my emotions like a roll of duct-tape, slowly. I feared the interstate but knew it was inevitable. Instead I took the scenic route in an attempt to build up some courage. Courage later transformed into anticipation as my wheels hit the bridge. I felt light-headed but he was in the car and there was no turning back. I felt crazy, but somehow he managed to lose his shades to a wave.
I awoke on the couch, having left him in bed at some point. My supervisor's face appeared, cool and calculating. "Mondays are mine," she demanded in the last meeting. I got up, rubbed his shoulder and quickly put on something professional, giddy because his silly hair-straightener, leather pouch and suitcase were all over my place. I dropped him off at Burger King across the street from Busch Gardens, but I don't remember if I kissed him. I'm more sure I squeezed his leg. Nine hours later, I picked him up off Busch, but he swept me away. "I like you."
He suggested I say, "I have no bones in my legs" today. I shook my head and walked beside the pool and the laundry room with my cell-phone open, offering my supervisor's voicemail a more serious lie. I then jumped back into bed with him for awhile, laughing. Later, I put on his rose-colored shades from Linda's and attempted to get us both smoothies while he used the bathroom, space. I fell short though because my palms were sweating and I got confused. Rushing back to his multi-blonde hair and breezy smile...and chinese from the night before wrapped in tinfoil.
Today I thought between calls and often asked people to repeat themselves. Over lunch, I walked a half-mile to Wendy's instead of driving. I waited, waited, waited but could not eat and finally ordered just an iced tea. The debit card doesn't work and the cashier doesn't seem interested in making many attempts. I didn't make a scene, just left w/o anything and walked into the hotel next door to use their drinking fountain. Walking back over lumpy lawns manicured corporately delicious. I hoped that I'd continue to breathe. Soon feeling the whisk of the AC and the numbing flourescents.
Hey sexy biatch. You learn a lot when you communicate with someone. "Yeah it was good to get out when you were here. I need to work on getting a better job and fixing the anxiety."
Lets make a story together. "Ok." You write the first part...
"I need to get focused again now, I know." It's just that page in my life seemed to turn awfully harsh. I think I got whiplash.
Why did I admit that to you?
I want you to be free.
I want me to be free.
Should we set it free?
Talk to you later.
Talk to you later.
He observed that the tall pine tree that used to conceal most of his windows was cut down and Razz checked his voicemail, a message from his friend also named Razz: "RAZZ, Razz Hoover...its Razz, Razz McCool. What are u doing? Where are u? What do u mean u can't come to the phone now? I'm calling to invite u to dinner. It's Sunday, May 1st, year of our lord, 2006.We'll be having dead pig, vegetables, wine of various colors and consistencies, all of which u could GUM if need be. So please call me... please...We miss you Razz.""
Relieved it's the weekend, I attempt to distract myself to no avail. It just isn't the same here, but I've always known I missed company a lot whenever they left my parent's house as a child. But this goes beyond company. I care about him. I want him. I'm mad at him. I'm grateful for him. I tried watching a movie from Netflix but it was only about people drowning. More struggling. I continue to look for him, make calls and work on being content. Tomorrow is Easter at Tempa's. Get yourself together, damnit. Do it for the less fortunate.
You may not be here but I can always be a friend. That's how I know, that's why I care. Today endless thought patterns were blurred by the family's presence. But I couldn't sleep the night before and could not eat. Eyes kept glancing at my plate. Eat, eat, eat damnit. Just let yourself be a mess, no one is perfect. I talked to them. Dave's in a nursing home playing cards now and my Dad is well. Left early and worked on our past itineraries but knew I didn't have the foresight yet, throwing the pen at the wall.
I sat in the glass vestibule at work and began to eat my leftovers from Easter, daydreaming up shapes for the various clouds in the sky alone because I took lunch later than usual this afternoon. That's when Tan and Omaha came back with a couple chicken salads from the restaurant and shook their salad containers like pom poms. Omaha was gossiping about Neheslie: "I think her friend was bit my a spider and started to get a rash. It later turned into a line that began stretching up her arm. When it gets to your heart, you're done."
Today I could not sit down at work, it was as if I was fearing a meteor crashing into the ceiling or an epileptic seizure overloading my circuitry. I told Omaha on the other side of the wall about it and she said "Oh shit" but shared some things about herself too. "This is just between you and I."
Just distract yourself.
Just distract yourself.
You must send me your accounting spreadsheet at the end of the day
Today you are no longer handling this
Written warning for you
I need a week off. "Don't do anything stupid. You are an interesting person."
"Take care of yourself."
"Hey, how are you doing?" Just working on my mom's hair, what's up? I took your advice and just scheduled a ticket." I arrive tomorrow. Eagerly I packed my bags, trying to include the best of what little I had, knowing I'd be in a cold environment.
That night I didn't sleep much and woke up feeling out of sorts. I figured I just had a malfunctioning carbeurator. Instead of getting excited I get anxious and down these days. I lit a candle and finally relaxed, setting the alarm on my cell phone and throwing it across the room.
That morning I felt uneasy driving to my cousin's, guilty for what I was about to do. She let me in and I observed she was just watching tv and sitting with Beamer. The glare from her television caught the remaining milk left in a cereal bowl next to the couch. My aunt took my key, bid me off, and I was sat between two big guys on the plane asking why I was going on vacation in Detroit. "Just visiting friends, I said.
I got distracted with the whir of the jet engines and the endless cloud landscape.
I sat down in Passenger Pick Up 5 at Detroit Metro and finally ripped the tag off my suitcase and began doodling on it to release tension between phone calls with him. He whisked me away in shades, placing his leather suitcase in the backseat.
"It's been so long!" we joked, stopping at a restaurant eyeing eachother over margaritas. The waitress came by half a dozen times asking us if we needed anything.
"Next time tell her you need 5 almonds." he said. Partying, driving, watching him plan at furniture stores, eyes, smiles, sleepless nights, thinking: "we're in our twenties now."
I couldn't eat. I like you so much..." visited my friends for dinner, they shut the door. Visited his friends at a bar, danced, they collapsed. More driving. Leg patting, little secrets unfolded. "Barry's not feeling well, Daisy." Pull over Joe. Now. "It's okay, you can only take so much sometimes." He said patiently, outside a car dealership. My friend Erin told me to pace myself but I wanted to see her when the tingling subsided. They both talked about finances and jobs, and recent events as I recuperated mostly and said a few things here and there with tea.
He threw books on my lap and gave me one to borrow, quizzed me. He jolted and I twirled his hair and watched his smile as I kissed him. The fish tank upstairs was clear, cloudy before. I cleaned up his brothers kitchen for him, and went downstairs to gather my laundry. I didn't want to leave but knew it was inevitable, so I took one of his shirts with me. "I love you, too." Followed by space and acceptance some time will elapse. "I look forward to having my own space." So do I. Call me after the flight.
"Long distance relationships are hard" she said, as the reality set in, but I felt good, refreshed as I drove home. I sat confidently in the driver seat, ready to take on whatever emotion was fed to me, enjoying once again the palm trees and sunshine. Tonight, I collapsed as one beer turned into another, and another. I listened to all the songs in my library on full blast almost two hours before I succombed to sleep. ** Today, work was a bitch. The calls were drowning me more and more and everyone kept asking me where I've been. Messed up.
I woke up this morning early. Tardiness is no longer a problem with me it seems. No matter what it takes I will get there on time. Today was hard though, as everyone kept asking me where I was. "Visiting a friend in Flint." After the grind, I went back home and finished the itineraries, labeling them joe's trip and barry's trip, but then I felt exhausted, paced around a bit and read the book he lent me. I know my subconcious is playing with me and I told him that. "What I focus on grows." Talk to you later.
So I got up this morning on time and ended up in the left-turn lane at my intersection when the muscles in my neck contracted and I became really disorientated. I pulled over, tried again, but I could sit still in the car for some reason. So I called in, went to the emergency room. Waited three hours watching people close to death be treated in front of me (there were a few fakers), listened to the nurses joke down the hall on my 3rd hour until finally I wripped the bands off my wrist and left. Hard to tell.
The same thing happened to me this morning. I reached my supervisor and she understood but informed me I had another written warning coming when I return. I proceeded to get meds from a walk in clinic and scheduled an appointment or whatever on Apr 30. I've been taking them almost regularly but a part of me tells me this is something that can be handled with a switch I'm just failing to grasp. I watched Lost with my friend Jerry in South Tampa and my appetite returned temporarily. I even had a couple smirnoff's and pet his fat cat.
Tonight I did the same thing. Went to that fucking job, but I know its for the better. I see that it's teaching me discipline. The big picture always flies in my face everytime I think about doing something rash. It's a process. It's a process. Attempted to relax, paced. Thought about writing a novel, didn't. Went to bed early. Worried about others. Watched a lame documentary on tv. Tonight the fountain outside my window reminded me of the fountains I bought dad who later put in the basement because they made him feel like going to the bathroom.
He's been feeling sick also. So I IM'ed him. Laid it on thick. I worried about him though. Played some chess tonight, won half-lost the other half. I felt the need to post something on myspace but didn't want to write. Just clean up my place and think. Redirect my thoughts into what I can do to better my situation. I listened to music. I went to bed early and fed the turtles with a couple stale pieces of bread. I called my dad and he thinks I'm getting canned and that he will call me next week. Sigh.
So this is officially about the 3rd night I woke up with anxiety. "I'm fine" I told myself in the mirror, but took an ativan also. Tomorrow after work I am definitely going to see how much time I can put in at the gym because I just don't feel healthy. I wonder why I couldn't wait for it to go away in bed? Because I didn't want a seizure to come on. Nevertheless I dreamed about writing short stories and birds (particulary BJ on my fingers). It wasn't BJ because the bird wasn't nice, but I liked it.
Went to work today and got my written warning. My supervisor brought the Underwriting Supervisor in as a witness to my signature. I can't help but feel like a sitting duck in a job that I hate. Maybe she's right, maybe I'm right. I just know that I need to maintain a living. She patted me on the back later in the day (apparently impressed with my good attitude with the warning) and told me she was monitering the phones and I was doing a better job. Whatever, the job is easy as shit which is why I'm still there.
My voice sounded extra accomodating on the phones today. I"m feeling like such a push-over at my job, overrun by women with no filters between their mouths and the heads. What's worse is I can't help but feel every 3 people that call in are from the company traumatizing us customer service representatives. I spilled to a guy who fell for me a few years ago in Michigan over chat tonight and called him. It made me feel better knowing he doesn't do much doing the week either but then again I am about 7 years younger. Personal mumbo jumbo.
**I coincidentally called Joe last night as his car was just stranded on the side of the interstate. He was waiting for a tow truck. He told me again how he felt like he was about to lose it. I'm so worried but want to give him space at the same time, so I didn't call him today, or log into myspace for that matter. Because I really don't care that he put me a slot down on his friend's list.**The host company was monitering calls and they were POURING in. I was going to lose it after work too.
Today Melinda diligently brainstormed gift ideas for him, interrupted by the occaisional phone call she'd become adept to answering with half her conciousness. She wondered why it took her so long to do this. The list scoured out onto the page in her notebook, policy and fax numbers littering the corners. As she succombed to the numbness of answering the phones, her mind wandered again.
"Who do these people represent in my life? How can I assign more importance to one as opposed to the other? How can they assume the same with me?"
She closed her eyes, and lightened up.
Cory would have to hurry this morning, but he didn't know what to wear to work. First he considered a grey shirt with black stripes. A minute ticked by. Unsatisfied, he stared at a myriad of dull grey and brown colored shirts, pants either too tight or too loose or too tan or too sad.
Quarter past the hour, he slithered into the brilliance of a soda pop shirt that fit him perfectly and breathed a sigh of relief. But Cory still protectively concealed it with dark blue jeans and a dark blue collared shirt. Time was up anyway.
Bez pondered the most comfortable way to meet his friends in town today. He'd have to avoid the bridges, the interstates, the glances from other drivers though.
He was running late: words were exchanged but understanding was lost. He thought he'd told them it took so long because he's scared, or a mess but wasn't sure.
Bez called them and hour later when he reached their destination, finally leaning his head back against the seat. Relaxed, but unable to find a park. No answer.
So he daydreamed without supporting his head, and drove home, never flinching over the Howard Frankland.
Chun thought that "maybe the most logical conclusion seems that they weren't real people after all(GryphonPoet)" but knew better.
She obsessively used satellite imagery for an address to send her gift because it wasn't her turn.
Be strong with space. Be 'one' with it. There's bills to pay, clothes to wash, people to see, trails to rollerblade and even better jobs to find. Yet, she never felt so fearful, conflicted and free at the same time. "I'm sorry."
But "is it frightening to fall in love with an angel(GryphonPoet)?" asks.
"No," she responds. "Because I can feel him right here, all the time."
Telemachus assisted his mom to Boccielli's family reunion upstairs in the next building. He offered his arm for support down the hallways and the atriums. But, Telemachus did not accompany her to the reunion, opting for his own hotel room for a couple hours until it was over. Later, Telemachus's mom called, strangely because she didn't have a cell phone. He picked her up and assisted her 'home' at the base of the other building. Brian was distracted in our absence--putting together mountains of Lego blocks, spray-painting flowers and destroying the closet door in the hotel room. Where's Boccieli now?
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