guess where i am. c’mon, you can guess. no, i’m not going to tell you. no! no hints. you can do this, i promise… yay! you’re right. i’m at *work*! the company reached an agreement with the union and the pickets are down. woohoo!
it’s scary to be this excited to be at work.
well, my bathroom is so clean and re-organized i barely recognize it. i even took a toothbrush to the grout and scrubbed out the trash can. of course, now i have dish-pan hands and i smell vaguely of bleach, but i think it was worth it.
now i don’t know what to do with myself. oh, right. i’m going to read my new book!
i just noticed that my posts are showing up an hour off. obviously my webserver’s clock didn’t advance sunday morning. i think i’ll go fix that now…
the pickets are still up at my place of employment. i took a drive out there yesterday just to assure myself they were actually there. they were. even though i couldn’t see the building down the hill, just the sight of those eight people against the closed gates made it feel so very quiet and still. today, i may phone my boss and see if he has any news about what’s going on behind the chain link.
otherwise, i’m feeling quite a bit less strung out about the whole labour situation now that it’s actually in progress. but, with every day that ticks by that i’m not at work i keep thinking to myself “that’s another $140 i’ll never get back.”
today, i think i will clean my apartment. even going so far as to borrow my father’s vacuum with the hand-held accessories to rid the corners and crevices of dust bunnies and spider carcasses. i so need a new vacuum cleaner.
i watched my new copy of fight club yesterday afternoon. oddly, i never noticed how long it was before then. i believe that once i’m done being cinderella for the day, i will sit down and start reading the book.
i will learn patience in the hands of my 14.4 modem.
i will learn patience in the hands of my 14.4 modem.
i will learn patience in the hands of my 14.4 modem.
i was sitting on the futon, watching the view, eating that container of fried rice and getting geared up to go outside and brave the sunshine when there was a knock at my door. my first thought was “ack! if it’s the landlord, where are my cigarettes?” i opened the door and this package falls against my toes. “chapters? i didn’t order anything from chapters,” i thought. after a quick chat with the mailman, i checked my mailbox and there’s another package from chapters. “what the fuck?”
i came back in, and ripped open the cardboard. the first contained a fight club video, the second had fight club the novel. i was perplexed and thrilled. inside the book was a gift card which read:
To Heather:
Thank you again for my site – I love it!
xoxo,
Buttercup
paige, you made what could have been a dismal day absolutely brilliant with your generosity. i can’t thank you enough. but, i do know what i’ll be doing tonight…
i am jack’s irrepressible joy.
the office workers union is indeed picketing my place of work. this means that i have the day off. it also means i’m not getting paid.
i’m thinking that i will go get my car washed and have the oil changed. after that, i’m not sure what i’ll do with my day. i’d go shopping, but i can’t really go spend a lot of money right now, but i do need some groceries. the only thing besides condiments in my fridge is one small container of fried rice and two onions.
… i want to shave my head.
… i want to put my hand through a plate glass window.
… i want to drive my car into oncoming traffic.
… i want to set fire to my futon.
… i want to tell someone to fuck off and not smile afterwards.
you know… that period when you’re no longer violently angry or so upset with someone you cry when you hear their name, but you miss them so much you want to launch yourself at the phone just to hear their voice. the trouble with this phase is that you know it will only cause you more upset. you know it won’t end well. you just can’t help the intense desire to make contact.
It had been a grueling day at work. The phones had never stopped ringing and Vicki’s in-box never seemed to get emptied. As she walked briskly from the bus-stop to her apartment three doors down, her mind emptied itself of every thought but of what to have for dinner and whether or not Tyler had called.
She shifted her backpack on her shoulder as she slid her key into the lock, automatically scanning from side to side and quickly inside the lobby of her building for “suspicious characters”, letting an unrealized tense breath out at the audible click of it unlocking. it hadn’t been two weeks since her apartment had been broken into and she was more than a little gun-shy still.
Vicki had been coming home from her second date with Tyler that Saturday night. In retrospect, she was terribly thankful that he had been with her when she walked into her apartment to find it trashed. Her first reaction had been violent anger, how dare they! Who the hell gave them the right to victimize her? Then, as the realization that they could still be there and she had now way to protect herself, she started to cry and begged Tyler to check the other rooms while she called the police.
Tyler had been so gallant. He grabbed an umbrella from the coat rack by the front door and made a great show of checking every conceivable entrance and hiding place while Vicki cowered in the kitchen with the cordless phone cradled to her ear, shakily reciting her name and address to the police operator. When the woman with the soothing voice told her that an officer would be over in the morning to take her statement, Vicki should have been relieved, but her only reaction was that she was going to be left along all night long in her apartment. The same apartment that some evil thug had been rummaging around in, touching all her belongings, stealing… who knew what yet. I should be doing an inventory for the cop, she thought. I should be cleaning up this god-awful mess.
“Tyler…” she asked.
“Yeah, Vick?” he replied over his shoulder while checking the hall closet for uninvited guests.
“Tyler, I know it’s a lot to ask… but could you stay with me tonight? The operator said the cops won’t be here ’til the morning and, well, the last thing I think I’m capable of is being here, alone, all night.”
Tyler turned around to stare at Vicki with his head cocked slightly to the left and a strange glitter in his eyes, “sure, Vick. I can call in tomorrow. That way I can stay with you until the cops show up. You know how they’re always late.”
Vicki sighed with relief, her mind focusing only on the fact that she wouldn’t be alone. “Thank you so much, Tyler. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.”
“‘Tis my honour, milady,” he bowed, smiling.
“Oh stop that medieval crap, Tyler” she laughed, “you know it just gets me all flusterpated.”
“Why do you think I do it, Victoria?”
“To see me blush, I reckon.”
“That’s one benefit, I suppose. But I love the thought of treating you like a lady of old. is there anything wrong with that?”
“No. I don’t think so. But it’s terribly odd to find a man who feels that way in these liberated times. ”
Tyler reached for Vicki’s hand. “Then call me a ‘terribly odd man’ if you must, but I don’t believe I’ll be stopping any time soon,” he said as he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it gently.
Vicki smiled shyly, not quite knowing what to say. She’d known Tyler for well over a year before it ever dawned on her that he might actually be relationship material. When she first met him, he was a bicycle courier delivering documents to her office, every Tuesday and Thursday at 10: 15 am exactly. He was never late and always smiling. One Tuesday, about eight months later, 10: 15 came and went, but Tyler didn’t. Vicki became worried, until, about an hour later the phone rang and it was him calling to let her know that he’d been promoted to sales and had a “nice, cushy desk job”, as he put it. That was the beginning of their real friendship. She would make a point of phoning him every couple of weeks to ask about shipping rates or customs requirements and he’d call or stop by with specials and pricing updates. once in a while they’d meet for lunch or coffee after work when they had the time.
there are a lot of things rattling around inside my brain lately that i’d love to be able scoop out and present you in a pretty html package, but i’m currently overly stressed about work (strike) and i’m running out of time to get work done (in case of strike). i’m feeling completely high-strung and all i want is a fucking ANSWER about the situation. i can barely think let alone keep my hands from shaking when i think about anything past four o’clock today.
i managed to find ten minutes to run up to subway and fetch lunch. when i got back, everyone was in the parking lot. the construction guys set off the fire alarm again. well, at least it’s not raining today.
by the way, despite everything, i feel cute today.
it’s a good hair day. i’m almost over the statistic withdrawls. i’m happy jerri was kicked out of the tribe last night. i’m going to subway for lunch. i surprised myself with being able to explain permissions and chmod to scott so that he actually understood it. a guy at the gas station was staring at me as he pumped gas this morning. there still isn’t anyone who knows what’s going on with the strike. it’s sunny. it’s payday. etc.
see subject title above.
i got home from the dentist absolutely ravenous, so i ate dinner without waiting thirty minutes after my flouride treatment. i’m probably going to hell for that. after i was filled with fajitas, i sat on my futon and contemplated my restlessness. i had the overwhelming urge to phone jason and invite him over to watch the hockey game and the premiere of boot camp, but i didn’t think that was a good idea. instead i just stewed in my anxiety and tried not to do anything stupid.
after exchanging a couple emails with paige, i was struck with another urge to clean. i tackled one of my bookshelves. i emptied and consolidated a dozen binders of miscellaneous crap i’d printed out and then organized my computer books. afterwards, i tackled my magazine rack. i turfed dusty back-issues of ‘linux journal’, ‘scrye’, ‘the duelist’, and ‘sys admin’. all in all, when i was done, i’d hauled six overful shopping bags of paper out to the dumpster.
not to be called lazy, i then spent a half hour or so going through a box of momentos from various trips i’ve taken and people i’ve known. i found my disney dollars from my trip to the magic kingdom in ’95, my graceland visitor’s guide from my visit in ’96, the card that i got with the roses susane gave me in the minneapolis airport, the deflated valentine’s day balloon dan sent me, my keycard from the computer museum in boston, the pictoral calendar of australia adrian sent me. i got rid of some of it, but i kept the most important bits.
while watching boot camp i did my crunches, squats, pushups and various other muscle-building exercises. there’s something about having that drill instructor screaming at you (even if it is through the television) to make you dig deep and manage to do just. five. more. woo-wah! but this morning my hamstrings are putting up a little resistance.
sleep came quickly and deeply once i finally crawled beneath the über-blankie. i dreamt of discovering ancient egyptian ruins beneath my office and becoming reacquainted with a woman i haven’t heard from in twelve years. i woke early and abrubtly this morning, but it gave me time to have a cup of tea before i left my house.
a little late, but i finally scanned that damn mcdonald’s award. think they’ll hire me while i’m off work?
steal from my heart
your love’s dying breath
give to my mind
scars borne in contempt
as you may, or may not, have noticed, the site has gotten a little pale overnight. i discovered yesterday that this new design is condusive to radical colour-scheme changes on a whim. this is just what first came to mind. i like the cleanliness of it. too bad if you don’t.
also, way down at the bottom of each greymatter-generated page you will now find a search box. go ahead, search! really. the only catch is that it only searches greymatter-generated pages and i only started using greymatter february first, so you’ll only get results from entries dated 2.2.2001 and newer.
i have a dentist appointment in an hour an a half. that has nothing to do with tweaking this site. i just wanted to share.
rick seems to think i’m down. i tried to convince him i wasn’t, but he wouldn’t be swayed. that got me to thinking whether i really am all right or not at this point in time.
the conclusion: no. i’m not.
the impending transit strike is looming large and freaking me out. i like stability. i like knowing that i have a job to go to, no matter how bored i may get with it, and that i will get a paycheque every other friday. we’re going to be affected in some manner, but no one knows to what extent or for how long. i think that is what bothers me most. no one knows if it will be for one day, one month or one year.
i’m also suffering from a bout of spring fever. i want to go somewhere and enjoy myself. i’d go away during the strike, but i have to save all the money i have squirrelled away in case it lasts overlong. right now i’m waiting for the last week of june which is when i will be going to seattle. only eighty-plus days to go. i wish my car was in half-decent mechanical shape… i’d just get in and take off somewhere.
then there are the personal issues. i’m afraid of leading one boy on, terrified of losing another boy, and wondering why a third is going to such great lengths to get me. i can’t even pretend not to care about it right now. i’m learning to deal with it all, but it’s right under the surface waiting for any chance to bleed into my thoughts and corrupt my denial that everything is fine.
sometimes when i’m lying in bed at night and the neighbour’s porch light is bleeding through my blinds, i stare at the smoke detector on my ceiling. in the gloom and hypothalmic haze, the pattern on its casing takes on a kokopelli shape and often worries me into restless dreams.
then there are the waking moments; the brief periods of consciousness amidst the rem cycles and muddled perceptions. when i refuse to believe i’m not flying or falling; when my eyes won’t stay closed against the reality pummeling itself into my brain. i’m grateful they don’t last long.
the daydreams are the most disturbing. they’re the most tangible because imagination takes over and carries me away, without a care for where i want to journey. the encounters are so vivid i can almost convince myself the situations were authentic. most often it would be preferable if they did occur; i’m much more bold inside my brain.
how can you not fall in love with those eyes?
