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to write something here, but... I don't know what. Reading about Buddhism, still. Reading about the Kabbalah, still... worried about school, worried about work. Actually, mulling over the fact that I want a grown-up job. I want a job with a title like 'Administrative Assistant' or 'Short-Term Mid-Systems Analyst'. I want a 'career path' instead of a 'job'. I think I'd enjoy multi-tasking instead of having to stretch out all my tasks in a leisurely, linear fashion so they'll last 10 hours - when I can do them in 5 with time to spare. I'm so comfortably stuck at the Ex. I know so many people there that I wave to every morning - and have waved to for the past 6 years - but I don't know their names. Feeling bad because I don't know them better, like even a smidge about them, but they've never gone out of their way to do more than wave to me, either.
It's a cold comfort I get from the Excalibur, one bred of familiarity moreso than because I'm that into my job. I know who it'll be when the phone rings - before I hit the button & look at the extension. I know who's been off all week by which supplies aren't stocked. I know all those morning-wave people.
I talked to our neighbor for the first time since she moved in like, 2 years ago. Korean lady. Has lots of backyard parties & many, many partyboys. One night, Rob found a guy he later discovered was her brother & a friend passed out halfway in their car & halfway in the gutter. Great folks for our graveyard schedule. Rob actually knows the Korean chick slightly better than I do, which is scary. I guess hosing someone's puke off the street while she picked up beer bottles from her lawn w/a bag of frozen peas on her head was a good conversation opener.
I think there's a lot of comfortable familiarity with Las Vegas, too. I'd so like to get outta here, but I'm afraid in a way. Our past moves have just been bad for our finances. Even though I don't drive, I know traffic & traffic patterns like the back of my hand. I know the convention & trade show schedules. I know the Spag Bowl, Rainblow, the Over the Shoulder Boulder Hwy, Dick ate 'er, Flabimbo, Tropikaka... I understand the term 'pumpkin orange' when referring to traffic lights. I know that Joe W. Brown is the best back alley for pretending like you're on the Autobahn - or at least in some car commercial. I know the weather patterns (within reason, this is an El Nino year so all the rules go out the window), the seasons, even the allergy seasons. I actually know which direction North
is.
A not-so-small part of me would be endlessly content to just sit in Rob's mom's scorpion-infested house & play video games & go to work every day & bitch constantly about how much I hate it. Just doing what I'm doing now until I shrivel up & die.
That's what makes me realize - I'm already dead.
It's a cold comfort I get from the Excalibur, one bred of familiarity moreso than because I'm that into my job. I know who it'll be when the phone rings - before I hit the button & look at the extension. I know who's been off all week by which supplies aren't stocked. I know all those morning-wave people.
I talked to our neighbor for the first time since she moved in like, 2 years ago. Korean lady. Has lots of backyard parties & many, many partyboys. One night, Rob found a guy he later discovered was her brother & a friend passed out halfway in their car & halfway in the gutter. Great folks for our graveyard schedule. Rob actually knows the Korean chick slightly better than I do, which is scary. I guess hosing someone's puke off the street while she picked up beer bottles from her lawn w/a bag of frozen peas on her head was a good conversation opener.
I think there's a lot of comfortable familiarity with Las Vegas, too. I'd so like to get outta here, but I'm afraid in a way. Our past moves have just been bad for our finances. Even though I don't drive, I know traffic & traffic patterns like the back of my hand. I know the convention & trade show schedules. I know the Spag Bowl, Rainblow, the Over the Shoulder Boulder Hwy, Dick ate 'er, Flabimbo, Tropikaka... I understand the term 'pumpkin orange' when referring to traffic lights. I know that Joe W. Brown is the best back alley for pretending like you're on the Autobahn - or at least in some car commercial. I know the weather patterns (within reason, this is an El Nino year so all the rules go out the window), the seasons, even the allergy seasons. I actually know which direction North
is.
A not-so-small part of me would be endlessly content to just sit in Rob's mom's scorpion-infested house & play video games & go to work every day & bitch constantly about how much I hate it. Just doing what I'm doing now until I shrivel up & die.
That's what makes me realize - I'm already dead.