January 29, 2003 - 3:54 p.m.
Here I am, once again, as much in the flesh as I ever dare to be anymore.
This fog of expectent limbo with hints of being on the verge is just barely sufferable. Not that its something that surprises me. The proximty of my birthday usually adds a little flavor to my mind, instigating tons of introspective comtemplation, sometimes followed by some motivation and actuall forward momentum. Dare I hope?
Getting out of my current situation would, I'm sure, move the weather along for me.
My job is as inconsistent and prone to not so subtle mood swings as I am. After weeks of only getting three shifts a week(which sparked my looking for work in boston), I am scheduled six days. But that schedule is as permanent as my hair color when I was 22. One of the other cooks had to have his appendix out, and another took a week off to stay with his newborn son. Cool for them, one is getting better, and how can I begrudge time spent with kids? I can't. But if the hours were consistent enough for me to azctusally get back out on my own, I wouldn't be boring you with my bitching. Lets stir it up a bit more though. One of the owners admitted himself into an achohol abuse program(owning and working at a restaurant with a huge upstairs bar, who knew?), which got the other owners and employees incredibly moody. Sympathy for ther dilema flowed through me, and I hoped he could worki it out, yet the way it affected the others, from bitchiness to bouts of yelling seems above the water mark to me. But i grinned and bared it.
So why did they all start asking me if I was ok a couple days ago? I admit genreally I am a hyper active indivdual, prone to extroverting in as many different directions as there are people. But I have my days, as does everyone, where I keep to myself to try to think things out in my life. My face doesn't show saddness or angst, yet my quiet demeanor seems to have sparked five inquiries into my life. Am I ok? Everything going ok buddy? Anything you need to talk about?
I could except that, but the look in their eyes and facial expressions show more then a casual concern, more like they are worried I'm unstable or something. And as soon as my mood elevators wear off, it irks me something fierce. I'm sure my knuckles would be bruised if my rubber walls weren't there.
But seriously for a second, I'm fine. I'm in a transitional stage, things finally falling into place that could lead to my dreams coming to fruition. sure the instability of my workplace could work itself out so I could get things done faster, but its nothing for concern. I'll live, I always have, and always will. Akuna retarda. I'll sign on later for something not so whiney and personally boring.
6:58 p.m. - November 21, 2003
11:55 p.m. - November 15, 2003
8:23 p.m. - November 15, 2003
3:38 a.m. - November 10, 2003
7:46 a.m. - October 27, 2003
