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Thursday, Jul. 17, 2003 / 9:09 p.m. ~In Need Of Repairs~ It's a bit not quite cool enough, or I could say kind of hot, and this is weird, typing here, because I've been typing my entries at work lately, in Word, and uploading, or typing over at my blog, and this window is bigger than that, and it's blue, because I made it blue. I'm so easily distracted. Yes, I'm hot inside, but it's hotter outside, and it's difficult to muster the energy to sit here and write. But I was catching up on reading diaries and figured I should write something here before I become too consumed in other people's lives. Henceforth and herewith. My days at work are draining me, nothing new there. I think I'm staying up too late as well, but I don't like to limit myself, I'm not the type to go to bed because I want to be well rested the next day. That's not me, I want to cram in that which gives me pleasure. Ah... so last night I finally watched "Unfaithful", after forgetting how badly I wanted to see it, how long I'd waited for it to be on cable. Oh, my, it was juicy good. At lunch today, for Jane's birthday, Q took us to a sports bar nearby and we had a quick lunch, took most of it back to work with us, but I mentioned the film and Jane had seen it, said it was "H-O-T-T-T-T-T-T, HOT!", and maybe more "T"s were in there, but I can't remember. Loud bass outside in someone's car, another distraction. Ew, makes me feel nauseous. So, yes, cheesy dialogue, but who the hell cares? And why, oh why, can't they make a movie in which someone meets someone new, has amazing and passionate sex all over the place, and falls in love, and lives happily ever after? Why must the good sex always lead to something bad? Maybe Richard Gere wasn't the best husband, and maybe Olivier Martinez didn't have to be a cheating scumbag, maybe he could've been THE LOVE OF HER LIFE. But no. It had to be this stylistic moralistic puff piece, with juicy sexy bits! Fuck the bass! Major distraction here, between not being able to type too well, being too hot, and feeling nauseous with the bass thing. Grrrr..... What else? Nothing. See? Again, I have nothing. And I requested my diary be reviewed. Hah! Funny, that. Sure, come read, see what you think, dig my layout, click on links, but I can't write to save my life right now. I can't pick the right time of day, I just can't type right now. It's not working for me. Wait, just a sec... Okay, ran my hands in some cold water, splashed some cold water on my naked arms, got some cold water from the fridge to drink. Think cold. I got really excited about a little music survey I saw on someone's LiveJournal, so excited it was all I could think about this morning, and I got to work and yanked out my notebook and started trying to list my favorite lines from songs, and songs that make me happy, and songs that make me sad, and etc., and etc., and it's a great little survey, but I wanted to consult my music collection, and I was at work, so I couldn't. Then I was going to come home at lunch and stare at my albums and CDs, but Q invited me to lunch for Jane's birthday, and I couldn't refuse, I wanted to celebrate Jane, but I think I realize I don't really know who she is. She got a Long Island Iced Tea, and talked about how she often drinks at lunch, and Q says she'd be drinking too, but she's on meds, and they both say Kukla and Penelope drink at lunch too, and I'm dumbfounded. And it explains the errors, and the sloppy work, and the goofy behavior, and I've jokingly said, countless times, "Have you been drinking?", and "You drank your lunch, didn't you?", not even entertaining the thought that I was dead on. I don't think it's right, and I think if they were found out they'd be let go immediately. I did it, when I worked retail, but that was different, and it was only twice, maybe three times. When I worked at the medical bookstore, John and I went for pizza and beer once, and once I met Brent there, same pizza place, and I think we had beers that day, or maybe not. And then at the other bookstore, but it was a special occasion, Leigh's birthday, I think. Looks like Jane ties one on several times a week. Which makes me wonder, it really does. She talks about alcohol a lot, asked me about my wine after we went to the Farmer's Market together, wanted to know if I drank it, how much I drank, and I was afraid she thought I am a lush, but then I realized she is the lush. Maybe I'm being judgmental, but I think, especially in our line of work, one should hold off on cocktail hour until cocktail hour. Am I wrong here?? So, I lost momentum on the survey, and being the perfectionist sort of procrastinator, I'm worried I'll never finish it because I want it to be perfect. I want to put all the right answers. I overthink everything. And my monitor is wonky, it's sort of flashing a bit, which is really unnerving, and I've lost the ability to type, it seems. Seriously, it's all 'backspace', 'backspace', 'backspace', I have to correct almost every word. Is this neurological malfunctioning? I took more 'hidden bias' tests online the other day, Sunday, I guess, and the thing about it is you have to hit the right keys, right and left, in the right quickest amount of time, or it indicates a bias, but they switch the sides - left=old=good, right=young=bad, oops, biased! Right=old=bad, left=young=good, no, wait, it was the other way around, I was just getting used to young being 'good', now it's 'bad'. Crazy. I think it's more left brain/right brain, not bias/unbiased. I think the tests are biased. I do. And Gladys is driving me crazy. Every night this week, so far, restless, pacing, following me around, yowling, begging for food. Is she okay? Is she losing weight? Is it me? Am I not paying enough attention, do I need to engage her in play? I'm not just overthinking, I'm hyper aware, hyper sensitive, not functioning on every cylinder. Maybe I need new plugs. Really. This morning I slopped my coffee all over the counter, I never do that. And I just spilled my water a few minutes ago. And I can't type. I feel like I just want to lie down and stare into space. Or at the TV, which is what I did after work yesterday. "Great Hotels" on Travel Channel, The Mansion on Turtle Creek, The Inn at Little Washington, or the Little Inn at Washington, and the Peninsula in L.A., then "Boarding House - North Shore", where they surfed the Bonsai Pipeline, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful waves, beautiful, did I say beautiful?, and "Big Brother" and "Unfaithful". I was immobilized. I need repairs. I need to fix me. This weekend? I recognize I need change, I just need to affect that change, to implement. I'm sinking into this bizarre pattern of barely functioning, and it's physical, but must have its roots in mental processes, or emotional, or possibly sexual, or spiritual. This must be decided, worked upon. Repaired, as I say. For now, this chair hurts my back, my hands are hot, I'm so unhappy to be expressing myself through this keyboard, so I will go. Cost of the War in Iraq
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