06/01/00
"Sunflowers and your face fascinate me...you love only the tallest trees..."
I have resorted to primitive grunts and gutteral moans as a means of communication. I have had an enormous problem with the English language today. That happens to me more and more often--I try to talk but I open my mouth and all this unintelligible crap comes spewing forth. Thank God I still have hands or I'd really be fucked.
I have an interview next Wednesday for the hospital job. I finally lost patience yesterday afternoon and called the chick back again. She had been waiting to call me until she had specifics, i.e., hours and days. She was able to tell me that it's full time, evenings, which probably translates to 3-11, but she wasn't sure what days. I was all giddy about that aspect because of all the things it means--(1) I can go to school during the day and work at night like normal people do; (2) if I'm already working nights, I won't necessarily have to quit when I go to law school; (3) night hours typically means "typing pool," which means a room full of people who do nothing but transcribe chart notes and letters and shit all day long--no answering phone calls from ignorant ass patients, no filing, no scheduling appointments, NO CONTACT WITH THE GENERAL PUBLIC...oh, God, I'm wet just thinking about it. Plus the job is actually in my pay range. Depending on what the benefits are, I'll either ask for what I'm currently making or about 50 cents an hour more. And I think that if they offer it to me, I'll definitely take it. I need a serious change, and what better than totally flip-flopping your schedule? But the premise of going to school for like, a few hours three or four days a week and then having the rest of the day until 3:00 to myself, wow, that just boggles my mind. I've had a day job for going on ten years now. And when I had night jobs, I was a drunk, so getting out of bed before noon wasn't an option, so it was kind of a counterproductive situation then. But now...I'm imagining being done with all of my school shit by 11:30 in the morning (8:00 classes don't seem so threatening when you've been getting up at 6:30 for years) and then having time for long leisurly lunches and afternoons of housework and gardening and catching Montelevision now and then. Oh, wow. What a shock to my system that would be. I think it would be a welcome change.
There are so many things I want to do, so many decisions I need to make. And I'm too tired right now to contemplate any of it. I'm planning on taking next Wednesday off--my interview is at 8:30 in the morning, so I'll have the whole day. Then I'm going to the dentist on Thursday and yes, that is more fun than being at work. I figure if I'm going to be quitting I need to start using up that "personal time." As it is I have damn near 40 hours left and you can bet your ass I'm going to take every last second of it.
I'm so tired of getting off work and it seems like 15 minutes later it's time for bed and I have yet to do any of the shit I needed to do. I need to get organized. It doesn't help that Miss Priss typically spends until 7:00 at the fucking gym every day and if we plan to eat dinner together, that kind of puts the whole evening at a standstill. I know I should be more "supportive" of her efforts to be a hard body, but the truth is, that's just not what I'm attracted to. I think muscle heads and jocks are a bunch of dipshits. I have never met one that I could have a conversation with, because inevitably the conversation turns to one about fat grams and caloric content and muscle mass and a ton of other shit that I could fucking care less about. Uh, aren't there more IMPORTANT things in life than whether or not you worked off that Power Bar you ate for lunch? And she's gotten absolutely manic about it. Now her big thing is that the restaurant industry is out to get her. For example, last night we had dinner at Sweet Tomatoes (this multi-plex salad and soup and pasta and fruit buffet) and she was absolutely positive that the "fat free" ranch dressing wasn't really fat free, because either some careless employee had just filled the vat with regular dressing, or the restaurant management, in an effort to save money, just bought regular dressing and "called it" fat free. I can't even begin to explain how close I came to punching her over that one. Does she honestly believe the restaurant staff are eagerly peeking around the corner to watch her eat and giggling the whole time because she thinks it's low fat and man, they really pulled one over on her? Jesus, I think Jonestown had more logic running through it than her head. I mean, honestly, that ranks right up there with anal probes and Roswell and Elvis sightings. I think she's going insane. And she's reaching that point of athleticism that kind of grosses me out--her arms are starting to look almost manly, and that doesn't jump start my motor. I admit it, I'm a chubby chaser, so sue me. (Kate Winslet is my ideal, thank you very much, and if she ever joins Jenny Craig it will absolutely crush me.)
I don't want to be here right now. I want to go home. I need to make up a list of shit to do tonight so I don't waste time wandering about the house saying "what was I supposed to be doing again?" I've been incredibly tired and incredibly cranky lately. Megan says I need to approach anger management in my therapy. I think she needs to kiss my fat ass. I'm angry because I'm suddenly realizing all the bullshit I've been blindly taking for all this time. I had a fit last night because we went to Target in rich white Johnson County, Kansas, and I was just irate because I was surrounded by people who could have just stepped out of my office building. Aaaarrgh! No, make them go away! But I can't go to the K-Mart in Jackson County, MO anymore because it's always full of welfare trailer trash that disgust me equally. Where is there a community of average, middle-of-the-road folks like myself? You know, people of above average intelligence, average income (or perpetual students), who aren't too pretty but at least relatively clean, who don't either ooze pretention or just plain drool through the gap created by their missing teeth? I want to clone myself hundreds of times and start my own colony on the moon.
Desdemona's building a rocket ship, all right...(Buffett reference for those of you who have no sweet clue who Desdemona is...)
I can say one thing, and that's when the time comes to pack up my desk, I'm going to have to bring in my own burro. Jesus, I've got a lot of shit here. All of my personal files, books, CDs, shit. Considering I spend 1/3 of my life here, that's not entirely unusual, I guess.
I went to the Nutty Girl for lunch and gave their tuna salad a whirl. They make it without mayo and instead use lots of chopped things and herbs and balsamic vinegar. It was pretty tasty, but I don't think it's a sammich built for 14-grain bread--maybe something less sweet, like sourdough. But it was nice to have a quiet lunch alone and not have to spend half of it driving through the heat and the stupid over-congested city. As much as I love going home to see my dogs, sometimes it just gets really old. I think I need to start taking more time for myself and stop being such a fucking martyr. After all, look at all the famous martyrs...Joan of Arc, et al...none of their lives turned out so great...
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