The first week of my new job, while technically not over, is reaching its climax and resolution and already I feel alienated from my old life. I can't count the number of phone calls I've missed from people I really care about hearing from because of my new position and it's starting to get to me. It's been nearly three days since I've had a meaningful conversation with Bowler, and two since I've had one with Grymm. Don't get me wrong, we've talked, but it's been stunted. We're all seemingly tired. And I think its the lack of talk time with them that I miss the most.
(Note: Since one of them will most likely read this, and thus the pair will be worried for my mental health, I just want to say that I'm not depressed or upset or anything. Merely whimsical, nostalgic (even though it's been what, a week?), and a little... missing... them... ish.)
I missed Benzo leaving, and he'll be gone for about a year. I wish I'd had the chance to say goodbye. He's been a good friend to me, in spite of the hell we seemingly put each other through. I miss Kali and Matt, two new friends who have made me feel very good about being me- which by certain definition involves putting foot to derier and writing down handles, so to speak. I miss Steven, Johnny Du, and a host of other people from faire...
This might get a bit bleh, but that's what Blogs be for. Bitch logs, get it? (I think I've said this before)
On a brighter note, things are getting a little better at home. With a job somewhat secured and money in my pockets again I feel a great deal better about myself. Most of the people at work stare at my enthusiasm and odd handling of customers with a mixture of awe, fear, and envy, so that's kind of cool.
I did sort of get "draped" tonight (those in the know are... well, in the know). Two girls, just barely out of high school and with a serious case of stupidity came in and decided that I was their Han Solo, leading them on a galactic quest through the video store. Ugly scags, the both of them, but it was nice to have the attention. For a while. The first six minutes. Then I decided "Wow, the have enough intelligence between the two of them to power a remote control car! For all of seven seconds. And why would I want to know that watching 'Snakes of a Plane' made you constipated for a week? Did you think whipping out the big vocabulary would make me forget that you were hitting on me and talking about not being able to shit in the same sentence?"
Some women. I don't mean to be picky, but I am. I know what I deserve. It may not exactly be a poet/ plus size- supermodel who can recite the entire body of work written by Neil Gaiman, but it's certainly more than an obnoxious seventeen year old who just told that she's afraid to sit on a toilet because of a movie.
I mean, damn.
So yeah, works good. Life is... well, worth figuring out. I'll make it work. So help me. God.
And my feet hurt. And I want pancakes.
Bitch, bitch, bitch...
Current Mood: content
Current Music: Great Big Sea, Barque in the Harbour