ericboy's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- quesadilla Back in Hell and they've changed the wallpaper. I'm at Stephanie's house and she's making quesadillas for us to eat. We already drank all the beer, though there wasn't much to begin with and now we're pretending to watch the Oakland-Tennessee game, though none of us really cares. I drafted another version of my resume since every employer in SD wants to see one. I'm preparing to e-mail the new resume to several job opportunities. Yea! I lost Damey's cell phone Thursday night by leaving it at a topless bar. I felt miniscule and ridiculous as I parked ten blocks away and walked back to the establishment (Dirty Dan's) only to discover that they had seen no trace of the phone. On a hunch, I called the phone yesterday and a very nice young man named Jake answered. When I explained the situation, he seemed relieved and we made plans to meet. I finally got the phone back last night at 11:30pm or so. I shook Jake's hand and told him that he had renewed my faith in the human spirit. I wished that I could have given him a reward of some kind, but since I am still unemployed, all I could offer him was a smile. Something tells me he'll be okay, though. I think the knowledge of his deed is all that he needs. I thanked him profusely and headed back home. Once back home, I curled up with Monica on the couch and we pretended to read books as we fell asleep in each other's arms. Eventually we woke, my ass numb and my neck stiff, and went to bed. I slept for a long, fulfilling time, only to awake at noon and begin what could possibly the most relaxing Sunday I've ever had. The scents from the kitchen are inviting and I'm thinking of Stephanie and how gracious she is. She's very pleasant to be around and exceptionally giving. I think of her as a friend, now, though I think she still feels apprehensive around me. That I could do without. It makes me feel dirty, diseased. Have I done something wrong? Does it have anything to do with me at all? I'd rather not press it and run the possibility of intimidating her further. She did, however, make me a CD of really cool music. That, I think, is a good sign. Oddly enough, it is this blessed togetherness that we're sharing that makes me feel so sad and alone. Monica is just outside of consciousness on the couch, Stephanie is finishing up her quesadilla for her own enjoyment, and I'm seated at the computer desk, wondering when I'll be comfortable enough in my own skin to smile when appropriate. It will only be after I am pleased with myself that I could make myself presentable to be received by someone else. Will that day ever come? I can't be certain. There are so many holes in my life right now. Holes that need to be filled. Each day I wake and busy myself with something, anything, only to more quickly usher in the night so that I can lay down and sleep again, resetting the dance to begin again. Let's list, shall we. Holes that need to be filled: 1.Significant Other- not the Limp Bizkit CD 2.Job/Career- ANYthing to fill the days and bring me closer to self-sufficience 3.The Great Beyond- not tomorrow, not next week, but further. Where do I want to be? What would I like to envision myself doing? A project, a goal, an ambition, a reason give me something to make me feel worthwhile anything to make me feel like somebody to give purpose to the routine and not to allow the routine to be the purpose 5:29 p.m. - 2003-01-19 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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