Today is my second to last day at this particular temp job and I have next to nothing to do so I decided my time would be well spend writing. It makes sense…I promise. (Generally I am so bored I am afraid that someone will slap a SKU number on me and haul me to the local lumber yard. If they do I hope I get put with the MDF…I would make a fucking wicked bookshelf. I’d organize the shit out of those books! And scare the owners.)
See, normally, I would have a ton to do but Tuesday they decided to inform me that something I had been spending hours doing every day did not in fact need to be done. Mind you, on day THREE of the job I sat with someone who showed me how to do exactly what I had been doing. I even still have the notes written on my notepad in my desk and yet…This is week eight…at what point did they notice this? And why did they take so long to tell me? I was glad for the work because opening and sorting the mail does not take eight hours every day. Nor does looking up the loan numbers from all the bills. And somehow they are always impressed at how quickly I get it done. I open and sort my mail at home too, it ain’t rocket science!
Since I have next to nothing to do until my supervisor gets in (which isn’t until 9 and I get here at 7) I decided to spend my time very wisely. By making a rubber band ball. Every day the mail comes wrapped in rubber bands so I have been collecting them in my drawer…
For these eight weeks I have been dying to make a ball, so now is the time!
The larger it gets the more difficult it becomes to hide it. If anybody asks why/how I have a rubber band ball on my desk I will have to come up with something. Like…”I left them in the drawer and when I came in this morning they had formed a ball. Maybe they are like the Avengers…’Rubber Bands, Assemble!’ I dunno. Shit happens…”
Do you think they would buy it?
I do a little work, open a few envelopes, then tell myself that I will only wrap a few rubber bands….it is always more than a few. Can I make this my job? Cause I am having way more fun doing this.
9:20 am The finished product:
I realize that they probably all look the same size, but it did grow, I swear! I named it Chuck, as in, “Bitch, I will chuck this at you if you suggest I start answering phones in the Customer Service Center one more time!” Honestly, they would regret it. I am good at customer service…on a good day. But I know absolutely nothing about mortgages or loans and having me answer the phone would end up with a lot of transferred calls and frustration – mostly on the part of everyone else who had to take my fielded calls because I would be having fun playing with Chuck and counting down the hours until I was out of there for good.
The people there aren’t bad or anything, it just isn’t my sort of atmosphere. I mean, I heard someone laugh today and the first thought that popped into my head was, “Goddamnit! I am so tired of hearing people laugh!” I was immediately reminded of Vicky (icky with a V) from Fairly Odd Parents – “I HEAR HAPPY!” It was at that moment that I realized I was grouchy. Call me Oscar and put me in a trash can. I hate everyone. Or at least I did right then. And I don’t like feeling like that because I am naturally (much to my dismay) a nice, somewhat happy, loving person. I often try to pretend that I am tough and bitchy but that only comes out every once in awhile, like when some drunk skank keeps bumping into me at a bar and nobody she is with is doing anything stop her. That ho almost went down…if only Mr. Perfect hadn’t stopped me. Such an asshole.
I am now at home, playing with Chuck and knocking things down on my desk when he goes rogue. Maybe he is more of a Transformer than an Avenger, only time will tell. BUT! I have only one more day at that white walled hell and then I get to house/pet sit for a week. I am so incredibly excited about this, you have no idea. Lots of writing and job hunting will be done and…I may or may not relate it all to you. Even though I doubt you care. I WILL MAKE YOU CARE!!! I’m going to make you snort mac and cheese out of your nose. And freaking like it.
In the mean time I hope your next few days are filled with moonwalking cars, black…..coffee, bomb ass mustache sitings, and liquor filled piñatas.
Last night I attempted to go out and have a good time, until around 11:30 when my would came crashing down around me. I wish I knew why, but suddenly I felt more alone than ever. I miss my best friend more and more every day. I miss having a companion. Mostly, I miss HIM. I miss the apartment, the shared life, the always knowing I had someone there for me. I even miss the misery from time to time. Maybe it wasn’t the best of situations but when he came home I could judge in about two seconds whether I needed to 1) leave the apartment, 2) leave the room, or 3) give him a hug and act like everything was okay. And that knowing is what I miss. The comfort of having a routine.
I almost broke down crying in the bar but managed to make it outside before the waterworks began. I have been so emotional lately I feel like a leaky faucet. One day I’m fine the next I have to force myself to make it through the day. To pretend to be human.
It isn’t that I hate my life – hate is such a strong word. I would say I am more disappointed. I know there is more out there but, sometimes it seems out of reach. Not always, but possibly every other day. Truth be told though, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I have been emotionally dysfunctional since I can remember. I don’t feel the same way others do. I don’t see the world the same. I think outside the box. I’m awkward, weird, and more than likely certifiable. I see up as down and left as right and, while I could change my ways, I don’t want to. I like being me. I embrace the downs as much as the ups (probably more than the ups). I like acting like everything is okay. I like being sad. What I’m not particularly fond of is being happy. There is just something about it that makes me feel completely disconnected from who I am. When I am happy I don’t worry. I don’t try to do anything more. I don’t write, I don’t read, I just am. I exist. There is nothing extraordinary about me when I get happy and comfortable.
So, yeah. Maybe this New Year didn’t start out “Happy,” but I am me, so I don’t really want that anyway. Everything is all fucked up, this much is true. But fucked up in a way that makes sense to me. That makes it all seem natural. That is comforting. I would say that, “this year will be different!” but…it’s just another year like any other. It’s our decisions and thoughts that transform everything so this year will only be different if I make it that way. It isn’t as though I don’t constantly try to better my life, so it isn’t something new I will be trying, but maybe this year it will work out. And maybe this year I will find someone who will see me, really see me, and realize that they should never let me go. I know I’m not perfect, but there has to be something worth keeping me around for and I would really like to be there for someone else again, too.
Today should have been a good day by all accounts – but I found you haunting me all day. When I am alone you enter my mind. When I try not to think about you, you appear. Tears well in my eyes and I have to brush them away before they are allowed to trace tracks down my cheeks, giving me away.
You are probably fine. You probably don’t care about me anymore. Maybe even hardly remember me. But I remember you. I remember your laugh, and your hug, and your touch. The way you would make me feel calm with a hug. Turn a moment of sadness into hysterical laughter.
They say I will get over you. I will forget you. I will move on. But I still don’t want to. I still believe. I still hope.
Is it stupid? Is it in vain? I don’t care.
I’m tired of being told what to think or what to do. I am dealing in my own special way and I will make it. I try to focus my energy on myself and what I want, but that doesn’t mean I can’t keep him in my meditations. I still send him good thoughts, hoping he is okay and well and that he will get everything he wants in life. I don’t care if he doesn’t wish the same for me because I don’t know, maybe he does. All I know is that I can’t send him negative thoughts, I can only think good things about him, no matter what he has done to me. People may think I am wasting my time and energy, but I don’t think I am. And I think that’s all that matters.
I don’t do angry well. I can’t be mad at him. I can only ask “why?” I will never know, but I will always know that through it all I never lost faith in him. I always believed in him. And that is more than I can say for most people.
I will continue to do what I am doing. I will still cry. But I will also still live. I will keep going forward and living for myself and hope that somewhere along the way something will change. Maybe I will finally be able to let go. I don’t know what will happen, but neither does anybody else.
Tomorrow is another day. Next month will be full of them. Next year as well. I have a lot of days left to take on – but I will manage. And every day I will remind you that I love you. I will hope for your happiness, and continue to work on mine.
I often wonder about…well…about everything. I am the kid in class who always asks questions. My thirst for knowledge is insatiable. Bookstores and my bank account don’t get along too well and because of this I have recently been avoiding them. I can’t walk into a bookstore without buying several books. It’s nearly impossible. They are my drug and I simply can’t resist.
That is not what this post is supposed to be about…moving right along. When I have alone time, which seems to be a lot, my mind wanders off in seventeen different directions and I often burst out in paroxysms of laughter – generally in a public place. It’s okay though, I stopped being embarrassed years ago. When you grow up tripping, falling, and bursting out into laughter your whole life you kind of get used to people giving you odd looks. I don’t even notice it anymore, though if I am with someone they will point it out to me, which only makes it even more amusing to me. Seriously, I find life way too amusing at times.
I was going over all the odd things I think about and thought it might allow one or two people to laugh today. It will also probably allow people a little more insight into who I am. And how crazy I am. Or dense…I’m not quite sure which.
- I wonder if fans ever turn the opposite direction of how they are set just for shits and giggles. They probably make bets with the other light fixtures on how long it will take the humans to notice. (I was cold and staring at the fan, wishing I could use my super mind powers to turn it off. It didn’t work for some reason…)
- I wonder if Barbie ever gets upset that she can’t give Ken a blow job. (This one came out of nowhere.)
- Do you think our brains could exist outside our bodies? I mean, without them we would be dead, so would it be possible to keep them alive outside a body and connect them to something else? Are they trying this? How creepy would that be? Maybe I don’t want to know the answer to that one.
- Do you think pictures can see us? Do you ever wonder if the person you are stalking on facebook can see you through the screen? This often keeps me from looking at other people’s pictures – cause it kind of creeps me out. (I blame Harry Potter for this one)
- I believe that inanimate objects have feelings. I often speak to them, and then make up a reply either in my head or out loud. So I wondered, do they watch us? When I’m alone at home I always try to act like someone is watching me so I don’t do anything too embarrassing. Although, this is me we are talking about, it takes a lot to embarrass me. I had an ex who knew this and would try to do things to embarrass me in public and I would always remind him, “you aren’t embarrassing me, you are embarrassing yourself. I’m just an innocent bystander. They probably feel sorry for me.” This didn’t deter him in any way – our day at the zoo was quite amusing.
- I love cars. Too much I think. I have started making comments such as, “that’s got a nice ass.” Or, “those are really sexy headlights.” Or, simply “mmm.” I really should keep this to myself, because even my friends don’t understand this one. They simply shake their heads. “Are you getting hot over a car?” No…yes. Why?
- Does everyone feel pain the same way? Does something that hurts me feel good to someone else? I wonder this because I have a rather high threshold for pain and sometimes I think pain feels good. Seriously. I like it. So is it pain? I suppose not. But other people can take a shot and not care, I on the other hand have panic attacks just thinking about getting a shot. One time I had to have stitches and that kind of freaked me out until I found out they also had to take blood. Dear sweet Lord, kill me now. I started sweating and panicking and and I almost hyperventilated. It isn’t pretty. (And just to clear it up, in case you have read my other blogs and know I have tattoos…tattoo guns have more than one needle, and they don’t go all the way through the skin. One tiny little needle freaks me the fuck out. Please stab me with a giant knife but for the love of all that is good do NOT give me a shot!)
- Does everybody see color the same way? Is blue to me orange to you? And how would we know if we saw colors differently?
- Does this world really exist? Or is this an elaborate dream someone is having (possibly me)?
- Sometimes I think I am invincible. My doctor told me I have the densest bones he has ever seen and some of the stuff I have done to my body should have resulted in injury. I get so set on this thought that I often contemplate incredibly dangerous things. Enter standing on the edge of a balcony/being on the edge of jumping in front of a bus. That little voice usually stops me right before I do something stupid, “what if you AREN’T invincible, dumbass. Do you really want to put your family and friends through that?” Inner Sara is so much wiser.
This list goes on and on. Sometimes I love how odd I am. Other times I think maybe I should tone it down. I dunno, you tell me.
On most days though, I don’t care what other people think of me. I worried too much what other people thought when I was younger (which really only stopped about two years ago…) but now I realize that I am awesomely unique. I have a different perspective on most things in life and I kind of love it. I kind of love me. But don’t make me admit it out loud, okay? I’m terrible at giving myself compliments – and even worse at taking them from others. Let’s just add that to the list of things I need to work on. That one is getting incredibly long…