10:14 a.m.||||2004-12-09
The exquisite tension in the disparity between who we are at work and who we really are. Of course, what we are at work reflects who we are….but isn’t there a big difference? Am I insane for saying that?
I would guess who I am at work is a combination of some of my worst personality traits (nervous – hyper; procrastinator)with some that, good or not (perfectionist, chaos addicted), benefit the company, over shadowed completely by the spin I put on every interaction and task – a desperate desire to be perfect and also liked, countered by weird, probably self-undermining, attempts to appear normal, whatever that may be. Because I don’t know, and I am insane. I get along with everybody, and probably pretty well above average in your hodgepodge melting pot of inner-office personality. I am, after all, a receptionist. But all year, one who, when there aren’t clients and the phone is quiet, gets the whole lobby to herself, and who does her job in relative peace and quiet, more importantly, not really around others who work here.
Which means, when I get to my cubicle, two things have to stop. My terminal cussing. (What keeps the smile in my voice is that when someone pisses me off, I can hang up, mutter, you fucking jackass, keep trying, or dumb shit, do think I have laser vision? Or, quit fucking saying please every other word, what kinda moron does that? Don’t call me honey again or I will fucking kill you. And then I feel better and can help the next person.) And. My terminal sighing.
My mother does this. I got it from her. I used to yell at her for it when I was a teenager – “QUIT SIGHING !!!!WHAT IS THE MATTER?” And I do it – these woeful, belly full of air sighs, that just broadcast your exasperation and un-cool with whatever happens to be going on around you. It’s annoying as hell…getting stuck next to a sigh-er. I gotta find some shade of gradation between appears normal and is really gonna split from the effort it takes to seem so. Because, everyone else is nuts too, right? I mean, everyone goes home to hide and escape and wish they could not have to hang out with the world at large every day, and reassure themselves that the sacrifice they make mentally their whole lives to support their family, is going to pay off in the end.
I am feeling very pessimistic it looks. I have never had a better opportunity in my work life, but for some reason I just feel chewed up at the moment.
This stems from thinking about the journals I read where people create a nice portrait of their work lives, filled with scathing commentary, irony and humor. And I wonder what they seem like to their co-workers, and that got me thinking about how we fit into our roles, and how we are so good at appearing one way, when what we really think can be so so so different.
What are the cubicle rules, laws of the cubicle? I am not a quiet person when I’m stressed out. Where will I find my cubicle zen?
In other news, a friend of mine, whose life parallels mine in respect of certain demons we fight, called last week but didn’t leave a message. I could see from caller id that her phone service has been restored and I called a couple times, left messages, and she called me back yesterday. I was standing right there as she left it, which is shitty, cause she obviously hated to leave a message. She sounded doooowwwwnnnn, and mentioned a car accident and having to work and where she could be reached and when, and it was a long message, actually. We seem to bounce into each other’s lives once a year (around this time, come to think of it), share how miserable things are, and then stop talking for the rest of the year. I’m glad she called me back. At the end of it, she gave her undeniable chuckle and said, “hope this is the right number for KF”. We were friends at an off the hook time in both our lives, and I always think of her, and always wonder, can I hang out people who share parts of my past without repeating it?
12:51 p.m.||||2004-12-07
I don't know why but I feel like I need a break...emotionally, physically, mentally. Nothing is really radically changed in any way....is it. Is it?
Dave and I being in separate houses is driving me nuts. We are not separated, we are not broken up. The choices we made landed us in this position but still....six months is as a long ass damn time not to stay in the same house. It's like Josh is a child of divorce but he isn't. I'm sick of this, but these are still the terms. And every day that I’m not actually with him is a day I wonder….man, we communicate for shit. And I’ll give you a hint – it ain’t me that doesn’t verbalize.
Ugh ugh ugh. I feel like something tragic is about to happen. I had all these visually lush and complicatedly horrible dreams last night. Didn’t sleep, I don’t think. Dread. I want to fast forward to six months from now, family altogether in one unit, bills paid, adjustment to new job made….normalcy, We’ve never known it. We made pretend for a short while, but we really didn’t ever fit the bill. I don’t want to see six months from now as a single mother. As I told Harry at lunch, that thought makes me physically ill. This cannot be the force in the universe that separates us, can it? I feel like sobriety can be relative but I’m not sure to what. I’m exhausted already. Why. Why is that. It’s not fair. Who cares. What defines me and by what guide-mark should I make my rule. I’m fucked.
4:40 p.m.||||2004-11-30
You Are the Loyalist |
6
People find you easy to love and care for. You like your world to be stable and secure, no surprises. You're cautious. You prefer your inner circle to the outside world. |
Haha - that's a bit of bullshit - where did I lie? I like chaos, for one thing. People find me easy to love and a pain in the ass to care for. Cause I go for those nontalkers and then piss em off with my need for speech. I do prefer my inner circle (of one or two) to the outside world, but I don't think I am terribly cautious. Certainly I have to medicate myself to not be cautious but that's been my focus most of my life, innit? I am sick of self examination at the moment, y'all. Just wiped the fuck out.
Love you, though.
7:10 a.m.||||2004-11-23
I am so on vacation. Except I know the days are going to flash by in a blinding whirr. Sigh.
Yesterday I went with my mom to the new mall by us - the wealthy mall. It was nice. Rich. Ugh. Went to a candle shop and snorted about a hundred different scents. Told my mom about how I am so not a floral person, but a natural scents, like pine and coffee and cloves person. The rose scents about knocked me unconscious, but the hydrangea, the other fluffy pine-cone shaped purple flower scent, and the Storm watch scents were HEAVENLY. When my mom was 16, she had a mototrcycle and one day she was hit by a car and was in a coma for a couple weeks. When she came to, she had no sense of smell. Never returned. Says she can taste fine, and has memories of coffee, and bacon, but couldn't relate to the idea of floral scents.
We had lunch at a nostalgic diner with nickel jukeboxes at each table, so we listened to pre-Motown stroll music as we ate, and then the staff all started a choreographed dance to Saturday Night Fever. They were cute but still I felt humiliated on their behalf.
Went to Kohl's and tried on about 15 pairs of jeans to find one that A. were long enough and B. Almost cover my ass. Almost. I'm sick of this lowrider shit. Unless the legs aren't so binding that the low part isn't automatically statically attracted to the ground. I gained 15 much needed pounds in the past two months but man, I feel like sausage at times. I'm fine with where I'm at, as long as it stops here. Otherwise I'm going to have to buy new work clothes.
In other news, I'm knitting one of those fuzzy goofy scarves, with that nubbly yarn.
I have to go get Josh up and to school, so I'll away, but later, friends. Later.
I wonder if Lazy is still alive. Haven't heard from him since he broke his foot.
Lazy? You out there?