(Although maybe this is from something earlier and the punishment for that is yet to come. :) )
Wednesday, October 22, 2014
I don't say that to be boastful, but rather as one of those realizations that hits you throughout the years as you play back things people have said to you and you realize the import of those things, years later.
You stand out from everyone else, she had said. When I look at the world, I see everyone else and then there's you, she said.
I had found her crying in the middle of the night. I can't remember if I was reading in the living room or asleep and woke up to find her missing. She was horribly sad and there was nothing I could do to help her. Sure, I thought she was great, but she didn't glow or anything. I couldn't say that I looked at all the women in the world and she was one of a kind. She was just one, one of others I found attractive for other (or quite possibly the same) reasons. And I don't know if I knew any of those other women - at least in a more than superficial way - or if I only thought I did.
I still think it's true, that there are many people you can find to love. I don't know if there is one person who is exactly matched; if there is, that's a depressing thought for so many people in the world; what are your odds, what is the chance, how are we to keep up hope in the face of being infinitesimal?
But if you think of love like the ocean, as ebbing and flowing and being warm here and cold there and moving around the world constantly, it's much easier to remain positive. There is always love out there.
[Of course, I am notoriously unwilling to commit, so maybe the way I explain it doesn't compare to what a real relationship is because I don't know that deep feeling and strength in responsibility. I tend to hate responsibility; I see it solely as a vehicle for exposing my flaws.]
In any case, I play her words back now and think: Wow. She thought I was special, and she loved me above all others. What an amazing gift that was. I wish I had been able to see it at the time.
Lately I've been lousy at getting up. But I haven't been much good at going to bed, either.
The days don't seem to have a form or a purpose; or at least I don't. I don't know why I'm doing what I'm doing; I don't feel like there's a "bigger picture." I have no sense of my future.
That's my own fault, 'cause I've got no plan.
Last night I was bored so I went to 7-11 and bought a bunch of food. I came home and ate 2 chicken tenders and then a third of a can of Pringles and half a bag of Grandma Utz. I spent $35 on a bunch if shit.
I need to eat more vegetables, more fruit.
It's suppose to rain all day. That sucks.
Tuesday, October 21, 2014
Chris DeBurgh's "Lady in Red" came on the sound system while I was at a restaurant tonight, and I thought of you. You are the most glamorous woman I ever dated and I was lucky to be by your side for the time that I was. Everything about the speaker's words in that song mirror my own feelings that time we danced at the Ring Dance senior year. Each of us was there with someone else, but you agreed to a dance with me and I could not get over how amazing you looked. You always did; you were incredibly gorgeous.
I hope that you are enjoying life and having a wonderful time; you are awesome and you deserve it (and if there was any way I could get you that message without it being creepy and stalkerish, I totally would).
Thanks for being you.
Monday, October 20, 2014
I opened the window upon coming into my room just now; it seems quite warm outside compared to this morning, but I'll have to check the forecast to see what it's going to do overnight.
I wanted to finish up this weekend's activities.
After the movie, landlady, MEW and I walked around the mall for an hour or so. (It turned out the movie was two hours long; the landlady looked at her phone just as it was starting and I saw it was 12:55; where got out, it was 3 o'clock.) I wasn't interesting in eating anymore: I had eaten a full meal and then half (or more) of a large bag of popcorn (the landlady bought it and then poured it into a box for the other two of us to share; MEW said she didn't eat popcorn so it was all mine (and when have I ever not eaten what was in front of me?). We went to Papaya, my landlady's favorite store, where I awkwardly stood around amongst women-only clothing, intermittently staring at young women I found attractive. Then after some more walking around we stopped by Forever 21, which turned out to have a men's section (which Best Friend was later flummoxed by; "Did you know Forever 21 has a men's section?" she would ask people) and I considered buying some t-shirts and a dress shirt to change into later when I got to Best Friend's, 'cause I was going to a party with her and her wife that night.
I had been thinking that I would go home after the movie and shower and change, but the landlady had suggested I just go straight into town from the mall, since I would be right near a metro stop. As usual, I didn't know how to ask for my own wishes, so I just hung out with them and walked around and left with them at about 5pm.
I was thinking of going home and showering, even though it would make me late, but I had gotten hot in the movie and felt sweaty and wanted to change. I took the first bus but then gave up and went to the Metro station so as not to be late.
When I got in the station, there wasn't even a notice for when the next train would be coming, and suddenly my phone is ringing, and it's Best Friend saying they'll probably leave at 7 rather than 6:30 and I'm thinking the trip downtown will take a half hour not and hour and this has all been a waste of time.
Instead, I told her I might go by Forever 21 and buy that other outfit (that was the first time she asked the question), which is what I did. I took the train into town, exited the station right by the door to Forever 21, went in, asked for the men's section, went downstairs, found the tshirt and dress shirt I had been looking at in Virginia, bought them, got back on the train, went the stop nearest Best Friend's, popped in the grocery store near the exit and bought deodorant and toothpaste and then went to Best Friend's building.
I called her to have her buzz me in, but she didn't answer. Then I called her wife and got no answer again. Perfect.
As I was texting her, she walked out the door with the dog. We took the dog around the block and then went in.
At that point, they were both ready to go and I had been outside in the cool air for a while, so I didn't feel as hot and I felt a bit ridiculous with the idea of changing. Also the shirt I had bought was a burgundy color, which seemed to serious and unlike me for a party.
I was nominated to drive to the party, which turned out to be an adventure. I was driving Best Friend's car because she had just had a big drink of liquor, but I had never gone this way and everyone was trying to tell me where to go while Best Friend's brother was calling up the directions on his phone and the highway splits off in every direction every 500 yards and before I knew it we were headed south which was the wrong way.
So we got off and got back on and headed north and they said take the left fork, don't go where it says 50 and we were going the wrong way again.
So we got off and we went under the road and we came to where the phone said we should turn and I said "Is that it?" and someone said "Yes!" and the light was changing and I turned and Best Friend started to scream "No, No, No!" and then we were on the ramp and still having a discussion but everything was figured out by the time we got to the top and we continued on our way and only had about four more weird near-accidents.
[The reason Best Friend was screaming was because the ramp up to the expressway was right next to a line of cars facing the opposite direction. So it was quite natural to think that the ramp was an off ramp, a down ramp, a "directly toward us at high speed" ramp; so I understood very well why she was screaming. But after a few yards I saw a sign at the top indicating a lane merge situation, so I knew (or I hoped) we were okay.]
The party was fun! It was a small group, and Best Friend didn't dislike any of them, and we played the game "Cards Against Humanity" (which I won, because I am an appropriately horrible person)(and have an awesome sense of humor), and there was lots of good food, of which I ate a bunch.
Afterwards we returned to Best Friend's place, her brother (who had come with us) got to see the mess it is (moving in is not done; there was some painting going on last week; all the furniture isn't in yet), then he left and we went to sleep.
Sunday, I stayed too long. I got up at about 9:30 (we got home at almost 1am), which is the longest I had slept that week. On Thursday night/Friday morning, I slept wrong and pinched a nerve in my neck and I spent Friday in horrible pain, which I didn't know was a pinched nerve until halfway through the day, and I didn't get to take anything for it until I got home that night. I was still half in pain on Saturday and was worried that sleeping on the couch would aggravate it, but it didn't, luckily, but I still didn't leave to go home.
I knew I had left something for work too long and now it was too late and I wanted to tell my boss about it but was afraid it would be too late anyway and he would be frustrated that we had missed the opportunity and that I hadn't brought it up with him before, like on Friday, when he asked me if I wanted to bring anything up with him or there was anything we should talk about.
So I didn't want to go home, although by now I felt incredibly dirty and soiled and needed a shower and to face my own life. But I stayed.
I stayed until almost five, and then left and came home and didn't shower, and had canned chile and Tostitos for dinner and called a pizza delivery place and got put on hold for too long and hung up and went up to bed before 9 and fell asleep at around ten thirty (which is why I'm awake now, although I shouldn't be).
The last part of the weekend story was that MEW came home and then into the kitchen while I was there and the landlady showed up not long after, having been woken up by MEW banging around in the kitchen. She was unhappy, but didn't stay long, and I bugged out soon after.
Tonight's new adventure was to drive the landlady too and from Cheesecake Factory so she could have dinner with a woman who is a friend of hers who's going back to the Philippines after being here for four months to visit her kids. It was me, the landlady, the friend, and the parents of Landlady's son-in-law. The friend is the mother of a woman married to another one of their sons. I had chicken piccata, and it was really good. Afterwards the landlady got her mustache pulled and I bought some earrings for my nieces and the daughter of Successful Friend, who's also like my niece. The store was across the way from the shop she was in, and originally I had just planned to hang out and look around, but I saw the earrings and they were only five bucks, so I bought a few.
The woman said she would "clean the silver" for me, so she was still doing that when the landlady finished up, so she wandered over and came in and in the end bought herself a necklace as well.
Now I just need to remember to mail them out.
The clothing bar in my closet is painted badly, so it's peeling, which means that when you push a bunch of shirts one way or another, it sometimes scrapes off little flakes of paint, which fall on the clothes.
I'd take everything off and sand it down, but that would require taking everything off and putting it somewhere (as well as dealing with the stuff under it on the floor).
When I checked the temperature this morning, it said 38 degrees. I'm in the living room right now and the thermostat reads 63. I thought it was cold in my room when I woke up, but I thought maybe I was being a bit sensitive, and it would turn out to be something like 70.
Nope! Was closer to 60, as I suspected but didn't want to believe.
I was thinking about how I was going to deal with the weather; I put all of my heavy coats in storage; after all, it was late August and it was disgustingly hot then. I sweated through many a shirt moving here. Now it's fucking freezing.
Quick rundown of my weekend: got home Friday night at 6:30 and spend the evening sitting in the kitchen with the landlady and the MEW, talking about movie plans for Saturday and relationships and then I was quizzing them on current events. We broke up at about 9:30 and I went up to bed and texted Nurse Friend, who I hadn't talked to all week, and she called me back and we were on the phone until midnight (which surprised me).
Saturday I got up and put in some wash, then hung around and took a shower and got ready and went to the movies with the landlady and MEW. The Landlady's car is in the shop, so we all took two busses to the mall. We got there about 50 minutes before show time, so we had lunch before we went in.
The movie wasn't great; not worth $11.25, which is what it cost (damn; that's a matinee price now??). I had been excited to see it, but I should have known it was going to be dumb; it was a popular action movie based on an 80s TV show, so there wasn't much going for it.
There's more, but I've got to go. Bus and work and all.
Tuesday, October 14, 2014
It's the night before my first full time day at work and so of course I'm up too late and not in the mood to sleep. I napped for an hour or so when I got home; I changed because it was so hot (it got up near 80 today) and then lay down for a minute, which turned into an hour and a half.
I went down to the kitchen and finished the leftovers from Friday night's dinner with the family and watched one of the British TV shows I like (I'm actually seeing them just days after they air, rather than years later; it's kind of bizarre) and then the MEW came home and I asked her about her job interview and she banged around the kitchen so much it woke up the landlady who came upstairs.
The landlady wouldn't usually be sleeping, but she apparently has had a lot of back pain today and took a pain pill and fell asleep. She's going to see an orthopedist but not for three weeks; I hope she's not in terrible pain until then.
We talked about jobs and online dating and the landlady showed me some emails she had exchanged with a military guy last year - last year! It seems crazy it was that recent - and I set up an account on a Christian site for the MEW. She seems to reject everyone, so that will probably be a fail.
(I sent NGG a text about it, which was probably a mistake; she feels traumatized by her relationship drama and so bringing it up was probably just a sore point.)(Thinking about her feeling traumatized annoys the shit out of me; I don't know how to be sympathetic about it. I feel like she has told herself a story so many times that she's made herself traumatized and now thinks that's just "how it is." But I can't help with that because I'm totally unsympathetic.)
I'd like to do something productive but I'm not really feeling that way (I'm now emotionally sidetracked) and I don't have a good chair/desk set up in my room for writing. Generally I end up on my stomach (like I am now) or sitting on the edge of the bed with a loose bookcase shelf on my lap (which is also ergonomically unfriendly).
I'm glad I hadn't gone to sleep yet; a car alarm across the way just went off for a minute. Oop, and now it's started again. It had stopped, but maybe that was an auto function. Ooo, this could get bad if it keeps going off and the owner can't hear it.
Monday, October 13, 2014
Sometimes I think about the movie The Matrix and the idea of life being a dream, an illusion. Sometimes I wonder if it's all a veil, and just behind it is "reality," whatever that might be.
But a lot of times this idea is self-serving; it's allowing me to be the center of the universe; "This whole thing is a movie set created to fool me," I think; only that presumes that I am the most important thing in the universe, and I don't know that this is a useful attitude to live with.
Today I had that thought because of something that happened. I was walking home from the Metro; walking through a neighborhood where I knew no one, that I'd only been in a few times (to walk to and from the Metro!).
Suddenly someone said "Hey, Mike," like a greeting. I looked across the street and there was a guy going down the hill on the other side. I nodded, I think, and he didn't really look at me and kept going.
What the fuck was that?? I don't know anyone here except my landlady and the people who live in my house? Who the fuck was that guy?? Is he related to the guy who waved at me from the car the other day? Am I living in The Truman Show? Am I in the middle of some kind of grand illusion (or hallucination)?
I tried to explain it to myself: he hadn't said "Mike;" that's the simplest explanation. Okay, then what had he said? What might he have said that I would have heard as "Mike?" And why did he address me at all, a stranger walking on the other side of the street? Is that neighborhood like that; that they all just talk to each other at random?
Is it as incredibly strange as: there is a guy in that neighborhood who has a beard like mine, wears a hat like mine, and is named Mike?? Is that possible??
The last possibility is one of faith, one that doesn't make sense to me exactly but would fit with "the facts" (at least as I experienced them): it was God. God was reaching out to me; knew that I was thinking a lot about him lately and decided to say hi, to connect, however briefly. I know, it seems ridiculous, but I'm always one for the fantastic.
Aha! Here's one more option I didn't consider, but which makes a lot of sense: he was on the phone. He was using an earbud or bluetooth that I couldn't see, and he was calling (or receiving a call from) someone named Mike. There's your modern explanation. Fits perfectly.
Still, as someone who likes to wonder, I enjoy the bafflement and mystery of my original interpretation.
"fun sounds good. let's have fun."
That text came from the girlfriend of the boss at the day labor job. She had texted to ask if I could help her move some stuff a couple of Saturdays ago, and was saying one of the regular guys probably couldn't make it, did I know anyone? Then she wrote back later to say he would be joining us and I said that he and I always have fun, so that it should be fun. That's when she responded with the above text.
It wasn't until then that it dawned on me what we would be doing. Her son's wife had kicked him out of their house, and while it hadn't been a permanent thing, now apparently it was going to be, and we would be taking his stuff out of the house and putting it into storage. After I realized that, I worried that it might be a bit awkward (especially if the wife was home) but I decided to go into it with a blank attitude, knowing only the people I was going with and relating to them as I always did.
The day turned out to be a lot nicer - weather-wise - than I expected. By the time they were meeting me, at 1:30, I was warm in my jeans and shirt with a dress shirt over it. (Later, when we started moving, I wished I had worn shorts.)
On the drive over to the house we somehow go into a conversation about the downfall of the country and how it could be helped, with the other guy and I arguing that if we could rekindle the idea of "patriotism" in people, people would act in the interest of the nation rather than themselves and we could repair things.
The boss' girlfriend was wary of things like patriotism and nationalism and said that instead, she lived by her religious faith, which was to change hearts one at a time.
We got to the house and, while it didn't look like much from the front (or I wasn't paying attention), it was pretty amazing inside. The right side of the ground floor was one long room that went from sitting area to TV room to dining room to kitchen, all painted in a pale yellow and with a gleaming hardwood floor. The master bedroom was maybe 30 by 15 (or more; I'm bad with estimations) and on the top floor (attic) were two more rooms and a full bathroom.
Then there was a basement!
While the floor was some kind of linoleum tile or something, it was pretty big - bigger than I even expected; it just kept going on and on. After we saw the space that I expected, we walked to a door in the back corner and there was another small bedroom-sized room! Incredible!
For a youngish couple, it seemed like a lot of house. Even Successful Friend didn't have a house this size when he was their age (I don't think). I don't know if his house now is the same size (although it might be). There only seemed to be three bedrooms in the house on the second floor (although the attic rooms were sizable; although they had pitched ceilings); Successful Friend has four bedrooms on the second floor and then a one-room attic.
We started in the attic, which is when I regretted having jeans on; the steps were steep and narrow and the windows were all closed, meaning the generous sunshine made it quite warm. Plus a few of the boxes were full of books or paper and were a bitch to haul down stairs.
I went around and opened up windows on every wall to get the air to circulate, and we moved the boxes down to the second floor for the moment, before we moved them out. Then the other guy and I split the work: I took the boxes from the second floor to the kitchen and he took them from the kitchen out to the truck, which was out back - out back! That reminds me! They had a small patch of grass, a generous driveway, a nice small back porch and a giant porch off of the master bedroom! It was insane! (I looked at the backyard and thought of the party you could hold there; how many people would fit in the space. It looked like a good area. I often do that, but never hold parties. I don't see myself as the focal point for a party, and I also wouldn't want all my friends together, it would make me nervous.)
After we were done with the attic, we moved to the basement. I had lost some of my steam, but the other guy and I kept up trading insults and quips, which made it all fun. We talked trash about another guy we worked with and each other.
As we were close to finished loading the truck, I suddenly realized: oh shit, we've got to to unload this somewhere! I had forgotten about that part.
So we drove again, this time to the storage unit just outside the city near where the boss and the girlfriend (and now her son) lived, and we unloaded.
Unloading wasn't bad and was much smoother as the storage place has rolling carts and dollies and we were able to pile stuff up and move it en masse instead of one at a time. The son (who for some reason was not involved in this project) brought us McDonald's to eat and then left after staying to chat for a short time.
We finished up the "moving in" part without much trouble and then we drove to the boss' house, where the girlfriend went inside and the boss came out and drove us back to the city (other guy to his house, me to the Metro). On the way back in the boss talked to the other guy about work stuff some and we talked about car parts and where they were made (they're both car guys).
I got back to my house at maybe 8 or 9 (I don't remember now), and that was that.
I'm falling behind in my own life.
I'm at my oldest brother's. I'm spending the night. I'm up too late. I was an asshole, eating the last of his chips and sitting at the dining room table, probably making too much noise after everyone else had gone to bed.
I'm staying here because I don't have to work tomorrow. I don't have to work tomorrow, but my brother and his wife do. But my sister is here, too, so it won't be weird.
I stayed here also so I could go to lunch with NGG tomorrow. It's not nailed down firmly, but we have a rough plan in mind. I'm going to call her tomorrow morning to try to figure out exact times.
I'm reading a book where people are horrible. Not in my perception, they are truly horrible people, you come to learn. You start out liking the narrator and thinking he's a normal, reasonable guy, but as you go on, you discover he's a twisted, sick son of a bitch, and so is his family. I kind of hated him near the middle of the book as I started to realize his view of things was off, but now that I'm near the end, things are about to climax and everything about him and his family has been revealed, so now I just want to see how it ends.
Here's how I'm falling behind in my own life: I don't write in here very regularly anymore. On Wednesday, I've been told, I'll start full time at my job. This is something I've wanted and waited for and now that it's here, I don't want it. I don't feel worthy of it and I feel like I'll miss my time away, doing manual labor chores in the streets of DC, having absurd conversations with other overly educated slackers like myself.
Okay, so answer your own question: if you want to get outside more, then figure out a way to do that, either through exercise or participation in some kind of activity.
Part of what I dread is the coming of winter and the darkness, the impulse to stay home and a house that is sterile and "un-homey" (even thought the landlady has taken me as part of her family quite instantaneously).
Speaking of that, I was playing with my brother's dog earlier and realized that I have a bunch of dogs in my life that I enjoy spending time with - Best Friend's dog, Nurse Friend's dog, my brother's dog and Successful Friend's dog. It's not so much my enjoying spending time with them as much as they all like me; three out of four of those people say I'm special to their dog. With Best Friend, it seems obvious: I'm her best friend, so I should be special to her dog, as well. With Nurse Friend I discount it because she rarely ever has people over to her home - much less males - so there's no real standard to compare it to. With my brother, his wife always says that I'm the favorite "uncle" of her dogs, but part of me wonders if she says that for my benefit. I realize now in thinking about it that they, too, rarely have visitors, and my siblings aren't here enough to usurp me. The dog likes me younger brother and sister just as well, but they're here maybe three times a year; my older brother has allergies and doesn't deal with animals (although he claimed this evening he likes cats, he just can't be around them).
In any case, I turned my usual insult into a compliment tonight and instead of saying I was half a person, I attributed my somewhat raw state to being the reason I get along so well with dogs and children; my mind is still partly a child's mind and open to love and silliness at their level (although, let's be honest, with kids the love thing is still iffy; committing to anyone who can change - or call on me for something - is still watery).
Going back to life, the second part of the job situation is feeling unworthy. I feel unworthy because I don't feel like I do enough. I feel like I don't do enough because I don't - either out of ignorance, fear, or stubborn resistance to change. Ignorance: I can't write about things I don't know about; fear: I don't go to my superiors with questions or to have discussions because I'm afraid they'll be angry at me; stubborn resistance: I haven't tried to learn enough new things without being asked so that I can expand my skills.
Part of me feels like saying to the boss: "if you're doing this to keep me from leaving, you don't have to worry about that; I have no plans to go anywhere. But you don't have to give me more hours to keep me here, and if you don't have work for me to do in those hours, I don't want you to feel like you're wasting your money on me."
As is usually the case, I don't understand what they see in me. I don't know why they like me or why they find me valuable; I don't know that I've proven my worth in any way except to make jokes here and there that amuse them; to keep giving them a silly perspective. The only thing I've allowed myself to maaaaaaybe think is that they see me as a central figure in the office, tying things together socially. I talk to everyone, I share with people, I make friends, and in that way I'm a central figure in the office.
Now, that's hard for me in some ways, because I feel (as usual) that everyone is more qualified than I am; that everyone is a hard-working professional and I'm just a fraud. And it hasn't panned out completely, in that there's a new guy there that I barely talk to because his professionalism (or experience, or something) just makes my ineffectual bumblings look all the more childish. He has worked to make the things I do casually - writing, linking, being social online - into a professional persona. It seems like a great - and, admittedly, somewhat easy - job, but it's not one I could do because I haven't sharpened myself in any way; I haven't made myself better or professional at anything. I'm still a slacker.
I lost the point getting hung up on myself, but that is kind of the point: my own feelings of inadequacy make me feel intimidated and so I don't talk to him; also because something about his stance - his physical posture - seems arrogant and snobbish and like he finds me lacking; which is probably all in my head, but I'm reluctant to open up to him for fear of showing how shallow and empty I am. I guess I somehow feel like he would turn to the bosses and say: "Do you really need this guy? Does he really do anything for you?" which is my worst fear but yet also something I expect them to think (or realize) at any moment.
This good fortune is unexpected, and part of me worries that there will be a corresponding thud of bad news - the last top left molar will come out, leaving me almost completely unable to eat (or at least enjoy eating). Apparently it's already a crown and I found myself picking at it last night and I worried that I would start obsessively picking at it and then just pull it off, fucking myself over; but then: isn't that what I always do?
Let's close this on an upbeat note:
Today my oldest brother and younger brother and sister participated in a race, and after the race was overs, everyone came back to my oldest brother's house. All the cars were full, so I took the Metro across the city (which was fine, and something I expected to do).
When I arrived at this end, people were still on the road, so first I took a quick trip to a Starbucks for a badly-needed bathroom visit and then I started walking towards my brother's house, thinking I could meet whomever came to pick me up halfway there or something.
As I was in the midst of the commercial area downtown, Brother #2 phoned me and said he would pick me up. He asked where I was and I told him and then continued on my way. I was a block over from the road he'd be on, so I walked up to that road, crossed the street and then began walking on the grass at the edge of the road because the sidewalk was up against the buildings and I was afraid he wouldn't see me.
As I was walking along the grass, I saw twenty yards ahead of me a wide square of brick with a shelter; it was a bus stop. I decided I would wait there, as beyond it there were cars parked on the side of the road and I would have had to walk either inside or outside of them and outside was two dangerous and inside, he might miss me.
As I approached the bus stop, I noticed a group of kids playing on the sidewalk behind it. When I looked again, I suddenly realized that one of them was Successful Friend's older daughter; they were his kids. She came running over to me and then they all did. My only regret now is that my attention was divided; I was trying to not have my brother miss me and was worried about being on his schedule, so I didn't stop to really address the kids and go over to Successful Friend and his wife (who were by their van in that line of parked cars, maybe 20 yards away) and instead climbed in the van and drove away. The younger daughter ran over to say "hi" and then the two brothers, and I could have given them more attention and been more present for them if I hadn't been worried about my brother and his timetable. Which, looking back on it now, he would have totally forgiven, because he values his friendships and tries to do right by his friends at all times. But I live by fear, so I let it rule me in the moment.
Ah, great. Ended on a bad note after all. Fuck.
Saturday, October 11, 2014
Faith is odd. On the one hand, I'm completely trusting; on first blush, I take everything in as truth, I accept everyone at their word.
Then, sometimes when I turn around and relay that story to another person, my critical mind steps in and says "No, that doesn't sound right" and then I'm filled with doubt. And doubt is like a stain that it's impossible to scrub off. It just won't go away, no matter how much I wish it would.
Maybe, though, the only thing I'm doubting is myself. Because I'm constantly afraid of looking like a fool or a rube or ignorant, I clamp down on anything that doesn't seem within the norms that I've been taught. And while I'm willing to accept anything that is told to me, as the teller of that tale I feel doubt.
Ugh, negativity, negativity, rainy, lonely day. I need to figure out how to make this not become my life, especially as winter is coming and there won't be much opportunity for wandering around during the day because it'll be too cold/rainy/snowing. I don't know how other people do it - but that's a lie; other people pick a passion and follow it, make a decision and follow through; pursue passions, live their lives, chance disappointment, embarrassment, failure; it's only me that's holed up in my house for fear no one will like me even as there's ample evidence they will.
Excuse #2: Everyone else has got a 20-year head start.
Excuse #3: My brain is mapped this way; I act this way habitually now.
Answer: Again: So?
"Know thyself." If I know these things, that means I can work with them or counteract them. I can choose to make decisions that skew toward or away from them.
In the car the other day my boss asked me "What do you want to do with your life?" My answer is always "Fuck if I know" (which I did not say to him). I feel like these days I want to find peace - peace within myself, to be malleable, to be able to move and bend and adapt to what is needed.
Today I needed to do laundry, but I didn't, because I felt alone and trapped and felt like what I should do is what I've always done - even though that wasn't what I wanted to; but I thought what I wanted to do was out of the question, unreasonable, foolish. I made a mistake in thinking that; I couldn't open myself or my mind enough to get out of my own way and make some progress. And so I made none, really.
The only good thing (maybe) was that I didn't watch any reruns.
Well, not too many. (I was flipping between a couple of movies this afternoon for a while.)
Wednesday, October 08, 2014
Well, I've got to say the first night was rather anti-climactic. I don't feel like I slept any better or harder or longer, and in fact I woke up again before my alarm and then struggled with staying in bed past my appointed time and deciding to go in late. I don't know what it is about me and getting up on time, but I'm paranoid about being on time and so can't relax even when I've given myself permission to miss a deadline.
Today will be an off day in the office. I don't know what I'm doing; something is due on Friday that I don't feel I have a handle on and if the boss hasn't worked on it, we're in trouble, and I should be pressing them about other things and scheduling a meeting but I don't want to, as it will echo back work on to me and I feel paranoid about responsibility.
Oh, well. Go to work. Let the day progress. Try to do good while I'm there. All I can do.