A lesson in intermediate Machiavellianism:
If you project an air around yourself as if you were a rude and demanding person and then act with gentility on a one-on-one basis, the other person will treat you with greater kindness due to the guilt they feel for pre-judging you.
Maybe I should tell people I major in Machiavellianism when they ask. But really, all I have comes naturally. It would be a shame to mislead people into thinking I had to study to get this good.
"Sometimes, you go outside to get inside."
Six hours of work yawn before me like a chasm on the second leg of your journey, seperating me from home. On the first leg of your journey, the sun is rising brightly, birds are singing, and you are well-rested (if a bit anxious) and full of energy. But on the way home from your destination, every step is taken with leaden foot. You are drained, and the light of day is fading. Progress is difficult. And then you come to this chasm.
Going to work is like that, only there is no first leg. It's all chasm, and I want to go home.
Fuck gaining weight. Fuck D.I.Y. twisted pair cabling. Fuck people for never listening to me. Fuck my mom for being people. Fuck me for letting things get to me because for years, I didn't, and now I'm overcompensating because I'm worried I'll never get undepressed. Fuck me for forgetting I was a depressive, too.
I feel better now.
Yeah, I'll call a shrink. Umm... next week. Or after I have a car and can actually go to appointments. Or never.
I want things, sometimes. I want to care. I want to leave you with no legal recourse. I want canned beverages. I want huge, pointy teeth, sometimes.
Every raindrop felt like a tiny, explosive kiss of moisture on my cheeks, and on my lips. But I hung my head, and my hat shielded me from the rain. I didn't feel worthy today. I was late (twice) and I forgot my tie. Stupid. I swear I looked at my watch timer and it said 26:00 and then I looked back and it said 48:00. And they're starting to crack down on lunches. Forty-five minutes from when you leave the bank, not from when I get home. I think I will just start skipping lunch more and more. I work and feel better when I'm hungry.
Thank you for your million comments this afternoon. Yum. They taste good in my Eudora inbox. Eudora, by the way, translates from Greek to mean "good gifts." Hee.
Feeling better. I feel, though, like I'm not moving. Right now, I'm stuck in eternal power-up mode, like on DBZ. I haven't got a car picked out or anything, but I should have $2,500 saved by the end of February. I better.