And it was as an ordinary secret sinner that I at last fell before the assaults of temptation. There comes an end to all things; the most capacious measure is filled at last, and the brief condescension to my evil finally destroyed the balance of my soul. And yet I was not alarmed; the fall seemed natural, like a return to the old days before I had made my discovery.
In the time that has passed,
I was unemployed (blissfully!) for eight days.
I started my new job.
Unemployment was much better than I ever imagined and it’s probably just because I already had a new job lined up and I had money in the bank, so all I did was lay about watching netflix and going to thrift stores.
The new job:
So basically, I am TECH SUPPORT and all the weird flotsam and jetsam that falls under that heading. And whoooo boy there’s a bit. My first week was disconcerting. What is weird:
I’m never alone. And I mean by that, everywhere I go people are making eye contact, dragging me into conversation…I don’t know how to get it across. I’m used to having a respite at breaks or lunch, but here I am surrounded at all times by anywhere in between 15-40 people, who all want to “hang out.” Considering these people talk for 8 hours a day, you’d think they’d want some quiet in their off clock moments. You’d think.
I have a new best friend, unfortunately I have no say in the matter. Worsened by the fact that I’m not especially receptive in the matter. I’m trying to expand my world view so that I can handle this person’s very abrasive nature, but it’s proved rocky so far. Everything about M is against my nature, but we live practically next to each other and we sit next to each other for at least the next three weeks (including lunch & breaks where M literally follows me), and god knowing I’m sure we’ll have our desks together. Enough about that, I’ve also found a friend in a delightful NY transplant, so it’s not all gloom and missed sarcasm.
My job unexpectedly also includes working directly with the factory in Korea to suss out issues. So if you get an LG android phone, chances are I’m on the back end fixing any glitches! (or at least trying my best to hide them from you). And soon I’ll have a hot little Ally in my hands so I’ll see them before they go too far.
I’ll stop because the wine is hitting me, and I have to get up at 6am again tomorrow so my bedtime is fast approaching.
I’m sure you know this already, but I love you, just for good measure. Goodnight sweet friends.
Wine comes in at the mouth
And love comes in at the eye;
That’s all we shall know for truth
Before we grow old and die.
I lift the glass to my mouth,
I look at you, and I sigh.
Come live with me and be my love
And we will all the pleasures prove
Of a marriage conducted with economy
In the Twentieth Century Anno Donomy.
We’ll live in a dear little walk-up flat
With practically room to swing a cat
And a potted cactus to give it hauteur
And a bathtub equipped with dark brown water.
We’ll eat, without undue discouragement,
Foods low in cost and good in nouragement
And quaff with pleasure, while chatting wittily,
The peculiar wine of little Italy.
We’ll remind each other it’s smart to be thrifty
And buy our clothes for something-fifty.
We’ll stand in line on holidays
For seats at unpopular matinees
And every Sunday we’ll have a lark
And take a walk in Central Park
And one of these days not too remote
I’ll probably up and cut your throat.
In winter my beloved
is among the woodland creatures.
The vixen knows I have to return
before dawn, and laughs.
How the clouds shudder. And
on my snow collar falls
a layer of brittle ice.
In winter my beloved
is a tree among trees and invites
the hapless crows
into her beautiful boughs. She knows
that at dawn the wind
lifts her stiff, rime-coated
evening dress and chases me home.
In winter my beloved
is among the fish and dumb.
Enthralled by the waters, tremulous
from the stroking of her fins,
I stand on the shore and see,
until ice floes drive me away,
how she dives and turns.
And struck again by the hunting cry
of the bird that stiffens
its wings above me, I fall
in the open field: she plucks
the hens and throws me a white
collar bone. I put it round my neck
and go on through the bitter down.
Faithless is my beloved
I know, sometimes she hovers
on high heels into town,
in the bars she kisses the glasses
with a straw deep in their mouths
and words come to her for everyone.
But I am not versed in this language.
Fog land have I seen,
Fog heart have I eaten.
I’m just going to say…thank god for giving me a scary aggressive dog that will try to maul homeless dudes who walk up in my yard. That zombie guy is scary as shit. Especially when I’m home alone and it’s pitch black and all I hear is the creepy shuffling sound and my dog flying off the handle towards it.
so lately, i’ve been going numb on half my body, losing all left side vision, and having hallucinations. it’s pretty much not awesome. and i guess i have to go to the neurologist with my recently-purchased health insurance. to find out if i have MS or hypothyroid conditions, probably. or a brain tumor. i’m going to rank them as thyroid, ms, brain tumor… in order of likelihood. and it’s just a little scary, for me.
The parts of my dreams I’ll deign to recall were about the couple who lived here before I did. They bought the home new, and judging from some paperwork I found it was probably around 1960, maybe a bit before. In my dreams they were just doing normal things around their house. The furniture was sort of transient in image, the swingsets out back were new. The porch had cute metal furniture in colors like mint green and salmon. They were some mixture of Betty & Don Draper, and the elderly couple in UP.
It’s somehow comforting to “remember” this couple loving and living for fifty years, leaving behind ghost images of previous kitchen routines. He died late last year and she moved in with her children, and sometimes I get her mail still. It’s always signed something like, “Your sister in Christian love.”
Ghostly impressions, I guess.
I like this just because…I feel like in twenty years when I see it I’ll feel nostalgic for that tree, and that chair, and that green color of the weeds, and that flaking dark red paint on my porch.
Another Sookie Stackhouse book came out at the beginning of May and on a whim I looked it up and ran down the the store as soon as I realized it was out. I tore that shit up since last night.