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Thursday, Apr. 07, 2005 / 11:46 p.m. ~On the Day, and My Newfound Oldness~ So the car was in the shop yesterday, anything to pass emissions, and today it didn't run well, in fact it stalled on me twice, and it was hard to get it started in the a.m. Whatever the mechanic did, whatever choke-y thing he did, and fuel line thingy he did, it doesn't seem to be belching the smoke, but I didn't take it for the re-test either because he said it should be dry and cold when I do take it, and today was rainy and warm. It idles unevenly now, and it didn't before, reminding me of the horrible heart palpitations I had early this week, and I came really close to asking the site manager to set the idle and/or the timing, and then talked to a coworker who recommended her mechanic with gusto, not the mechanic, but the recommendation, which was totally weird because we've discussed my car before, and she never once mentioned this mechanic until today. It's always after the fact. People watch you fail, then tell you what you should have done, where you should have gone, whom you should have talked to. Or to whom. Most days I think if I make it to work, home for lunch, back to work after, then home at the end of the day, that's it, that's fine. Pet Smart, Publix, Wal Mart, great, that's it, that's all I need out of this car. But I have to think of a bigger picture, a different job, a different commute, not coming home for lunch, going out more, perhaps, and etc. Today I looked at a guide to a local auto show, and all the cars listed had mileage stats along with engine size and cargo capacity, etc. The car with the best mileage, even better than the Honda hybrid, which was a fancy sedan, was the Toyota Echo, the car that seems to be the new Tercel. It's ugly, it's cheap, but it's economical, and if I find out it's incredibly reliable and requires insanely little maintenance, has fewer parts or something, I'm buying one. If it hadn't been raining I might just have gone to a Toyota dealership, ostensibly 'just to look', and as soon as some vulture of a salesman were to swoop down upon me, offering 'help', I'd tell him how bad my credit is, just to see if he'd walk away or what. Note to self: get that weird 'judgment or lien' thing taken the hell off. What is that anyway? I have had no 'judgment or lien', that's insane. I mean I paid my taxes late about seven years ago, because I couldn't afford to pay, but I paid in installments, because the IRS will let you do that, but no lien, no judgment. Fuck. Every day now I am more and more aware of how incredibly old I am. I look old. My mouth turns down, and that saying about how many more muscles it takes to frown than smile? Bullshit. My mouth falls into a natural frown, it's a great effort to smile. When I smile I wrinkle all up around my eyes, and I turn red when I laugh, always have, blood vessels close to the surface, like rosacea sort of. And people love to point it out, like it's okay. Just like people telling me how skinny I am. It's not okay. Today I was laughing, the favorite coworker (who really doesn't seem to like me very much) sent me many goofy emails, just silly stuff, and I laughed and laughed, and one person said, "Stop, you're making her blush", and then everyone had to chime in about my blushing, because that is what people do, and maybe it's like the way we all cover our mouths when we're shocked and horrified, but they do, "She's blushing! Look, you're blushing!" - um, it's rosacea, and I've had it since I was a teenager, and it's just one more thing to make fun of about my physical appearance, like Steven Thibodeaux on the bus, making fun of me because I had a mustache. Thanks, Steve. Thanks, people at work. See if I ever laugh again. Ugly, old, jowl-y, wrinkly, and let's not get started on the white hairs that pop up all over my scalp, appear on the back of my chair in my cube when they fall out, and the bags under my eyes, and the semi-permanent blepharospasm involving the muscle of my left eye's bottom lid. Oh, and today I was acutely aware of my turkey neck. Lovely. Yep, I am old now. I didn't need a birthday to tell me that. Site manager asked how my birthday was, "Did you have a good birthday?", "No", "Why?!?!?!", "Nothing happened, no dinner out, nothing", "And why was that?", "Nobody loves me", and then we talked about being alone on holidays, and how it doesn't really bother us anymore, but I said a birthday is a celebration of your life, the fact you were born, and tried to casually ask when his birthday is, but he will not tell. So I emailed him one of the carrot cake pictures I found yesterday, along with a generic Happy Birthday, for whenever it is. At the end of the day he was singing, and running around, and shouting very loud that all the managers were gone for the day, and someone shouted back, "So what are YOU?!", and we talked about cream pie fights, and wearing garbage bags to work on the last day, and recycling bin races, and I asked if people will sit atop them, or inside, as they are brand new, the ones we have now. We laughed, and I surfed the Interweb, and emailed everyone the article on the damaging Michael Jackson trial testimony today, and we talked about how sick that all is, and I forgot there was still a bit of work to do, but no one really cares anymore, increasingly, we just don't care. Even the site manager, obviously, the one who kept referring to our client boss lady as Lucretia. It was insane. Pre-solar eclipse madness? Not sure. And could he be an Aries, like me? I've wondered for years now, and he will never tell. To match my old age ugliness, I have my period pimples, two new ones on either side of my neck. Good thing I've not a lover who wants to kiss me there. Good thing I'm too old to have sex now. Thank god that's all over with. And I look back with fondness, and mild regret, but then again not at all. It's been a good life, even the sex life, but now I am old and shall only look back to remember. The road ahead is about me and how I survive. Speaking of, how about that "Survivor: Palau"? One member left on a tribe? Crazy. Well, another pedestrian uninspired diary entry written late, after waking from sleep on the sofa, as I am exhausted and such, and can barely think clearly, much less pound out something insightful and interesting. Here's the best thing, tomorrow is Friday, I get paid, I really need the money and this is very good, and if the weather is clear I'll take the car for the re-test, and another week will be done, taking me that much closer to the end of this job, and the worry will wash over, especially on Sunday, no doubt, and soon I'll be inspired to actually seriously look for a new job. And I already have my lottery ticket. So I'm good to go. Cost of the War in Iraq
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