Tuesday, Jan. 22, 2002 / 11:46 a.m.

~The Usual Cubicle Musings~

Last night while I was eating my Nam Sod, or more accurately, shoveling my order of Nam Sod into my mouth with a delicious fury, I mistakenly chomped on a dried red pepper that was part of the garnish. It was in my mouth, I was chewing and I didn�t recognize the texture, it was wrong, it wasn�t part of the usual sensations I experience when eating Nam Sod. Suddenly, really, rather suddenly, I realized what I was chewing, and simultaneously I began to feel the heat, I carefully released the mouthful of partially masticated pork, ginger, radishes, lettuce, red onions, and yes, that pepper, verified that I had eaten what I had eaten, and worried that I had lost future use of my taste buds.

Surprisingly, it wasn�t that bad. I didn�t choke or cough, my eyes didn�t water, my nose did run, but Nam Sod always makes my nose run. I munched on the enclosed carrots and celery and cabbage, finished the dish, and moved on. Yeah, I pigged out on my favorite foods, each mouthful a sensual delight. I LOVE Thai food. Indeed.

It�s 10:01 a.m., sitting in the cube, reading EW, listening to the Doors, then pulling off headphones, listening to Listerine hum, using every bit of patience I have inside myself to prevent myself from asking her to stop. I don�t feel I can do that. I�ve already done it, before, and she knows I hate it. So, it almost seems purposeful on her part.

I actually perused the job listings at Flipdog.com last night. I have a job search going with them, they send me email, it�s all automatic, I get these job listings via email, pretty much every day, but lately I�ve been ignoring them, or I skim them, I never go to the actual site�until last night. Unfortunately, everything I saw listed was either wrong for me or I was wrong for it. I won�t give up. In fact, I�m just getting started. Looking is the beginning. It�s like playing the Lottery, you�ll never win if you don�t buy a ticket. I�ll never get a job if I don�t look for one.

I keep waiting for someone to offer me something, and that has happened in the past, but it�s not happening now. Sucks, I know, sucks to have to make things happen instead of letting them fall into my lap. I guess I�ve had the lap experience, now that�s all over and done with.

On another note, I had heavy dreams last night. Must�ve been due to the food. Or is that an �old wives� tale�? I dreamed about the house I lived in when I was little, in Highland Park, Illinois. I was back there, for some sort of family reunion, lots of people coming and going, people supposedly related to me in some way, and my father was there. I wanted to live in the house again, to buy it, restore it, and it needed restoring. I don�t think he wanted me to live there. I went on the wonderful screened porch (and, as in most dreams, it looked totally different from reality), and saw where we had painted it previously, painting over a pile of newspapers (no doubt a reference to the pile I�ve accumulated, sorted through, and am now driving around with in my car ready to drop off), we hadn�t moved them first.

It needed work, this house, and I went to see what the kitchen looked like, only to find it was really antiquated, the appliances were like from the 1800s or something�I tried to get a feeling for the house, an overall �vibe�, did I really want to live there, to make it my home, to buy it, restore it, etc.?? I suddenly wasn�t sure, but I didn�t want someone else to move in either. It was really strange. Vivid though. I can see it still, this house that was supposedly the house. THE house. It wasn�t.

Actually, I�ve dreamed of it before. It seems I�ve dreamed of all the dwellings that were important to me, but never the houses that the Long Term Relationship and I lived in. I wonder why that is?

I awoke before my alarm went off, and that�s always weird, to wake up and wonder if it�s time, feel wide awake, lie there replaying the most recent dream, analyzing, thinking, and then Gladys comes and paws at the covers, I pull them back and she crawls under, we spoon against each other and I love the feel of her little body against mine. We get really cozy, fall asleep for another 10 to 15 minutes and the alarm goes off. Damn.

I kind of like this new attitude of mine at work. I feel that Lulu has surely told everyone what happened, skewed it to suit her, to make her look good, and I hear her chat everyone up, even Laverne, the one she had speculated about, the one she gossiped about, everyone has gotten past it, I guess, or turned it against me, I�m not sure, they won�t talk to me unless I talk to them first. It�s always been like that. But I feel good just coming in here to work, to read, to open a blank page in Word, type up a diary entry. Listen to my Walkman when it�s slow�it feels better this way, strangely enough.

This doesn�t mean I didn�t have a lot of fun here around Christmas, dancing to James Brown, laughing, talking, goofing off every time the computer system went down, which was several times a week, it just means that this is a nice balance, not talking unless necessary, not sharing with these people who would just as soon turn away from their bibles, their words of daily inspiration, to stab me in my back. I�m fine being surrounded by these hypocrites, these evil people, as long as I don�t have to see them or talk to them. Or hear them, and that�s where the Walkman comes in handy�

I will one day have a different job, that�s inevitable, right? I�ve always hoped the large corporation which has us under contract as an outsourcing company would simply cancel our contract and I�d get severance�I still hope that happens.

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