|a bit better. do not read if you are easily offended, tho!
||[Jun. 29th, 2005|12:53 pm]
|||||click of keyboards||]|
yesterday is what happens when you work full time on four good hours of sleep a night because it's too fucking hot to sleep. you implode.
i woke up with my sinuses throbbing, my ear hurt, my head aching and just sad and annoyed as all get-out. i dragged myself to the front room and decided i just couldn't do it. i called in for the first time. i guess it had to happen sometime this summer. i hate heat, did i mention that?
at any rate, i was told that the psycho co-worker had talked to our supervisor about "not fitting in". my first thought was: okay. so not professional. so not appropriate. your supervisor is not your therapist. i may be annoyed at myself for falling for john hughes movies when they're run on TV, but i don't think i'm *in* one. my second thought was that she was sad as i was. and that she -- for whatever reason -- thinks of us (we other three who work with her) as the "cool kids". she came from nowhere colorado, having moved there from nowhere california. she's fat (hey, i am too. truth is truth). she's a lesbian. and i'm sure it's a very new thing to her to be in a "huge" place like the twin cities. tee, hee. try chicago. anyway. i know how to be out of place. i know it well. i will try to have more patience when she brays obnoxiously or asks an obvious question just to get someone to speak with her. some folks can't deal with silence as i can.
so, i called in. then i lay next to eric on the futon in the living room. the rain had cooled the air and it was soverign and a tonic to let it blow over me. i fell asleep and didn't rise 'til 10:30. i didn't see the point in calling and saying: "i'll be in, but not 'til 12:30 or 1 this afternoon". no point. i decided to make myself useful and run a couple of errands. i deposited my federal tax refund. i have to call about paying my state taxes. bastards. i got a roll of quarters for laundry. i rented some movies. i put some books on hold at barnes and noble. and now i'm at the library: unwashed, hair a mess, yet smiling. what can you do?
a month ago, i went to the porn store. the guy there was very kind. i wanted to do a bit of explaining about why i was there: i can't talk eric out of fetishizing asian women. and i need to see some bodies if i'm going to draw again and...well. i'm certain he didn't care. he was nice enough to talk to me about pricing and how some companies just want to make a bit of money back on their investment and how some just ream you with their mark up. and it's not as if the quality is better. he was so kind and attentive that i wanted to ask him what color underwear he had on, just to see what he did. if i had gotten a smile or a laugh, i would at least have a friend. if he laughed he would have been greatly rewarded. oh, yes. they get rewarded those who laugh.
i'm telling you it takes a bit of calculation and chutzpah to charm folks when your mere presence isn't enough. you can say something unexpected. i always know when i've got them because they aren't afraid to laugh at me. i once told a roommate who was six-five and a male model that i would play strip poker with him. he worked part time at a liquor store. we had a bunch of "irregular liquor" (labels off, no one wants it, etc). we drank it. the other roommates. the girl from guam and her sister -- who are way more immediately attractive than myself-- played too. they got shy and gave up. then they fell asleep. the model and myself adjourned to the other room with the liquor to continue the game. i don't know much about poker. i lost my shirt. he laughed his butt off at me and offered me the option of backing out. i'm a capricorn. we don't back out. he won. we sat, smoked cigarettes, listened to music. the model in his boxer-briefs and me with nothing on but my pig-tails. we both broke out in giggles. he finally removed his underwear out of fairness. we fooled around a bit. a pleasant evening was had by all. good times...
it was great fun. no fun here anymore. i *thought* it was going to be fun. it *started* fun: i had crushes on everyone. i thought they were kind. i was learning. i had a nice group to go to regularly. it fell apart, though. and if *i'm* lonely, gods in heaven know eric is. must move. even if i don't end up getting trained as a nurse. must move. yet i can't go back. can i? i can't go back. i can't go back because i feel i *should*. if that makes any sense...