As I sit here, waiting for the last half hour of my work day to slowly tick away, only two things come to my mind. “Damn, I hope I can stick with this Weight Watchers ™ shit.” and some nagging feeling that rather than working on a blog, I should be working on my book. I shrug it off and look over my stack of invoices, waiting to be organized by account and by date.
It’s almost a year already. I guess I spent so much time freaking out, running around, and complaining about not being ready to live here, that I found myself living here once I had finished panicking. Some how Ed and I have managed to make this thing work so far. Who the hell knew? Slowly all the pieces of the apartment are beginning to come together. Rebuilding all your physical possessions is a bitch, especially when you knew you had them all before you started this crazy journey. Oh well, at least my vacuum is on its way.
I have to admire my boss sometimes. Short, white and gray haired little German lady with guts and iron in her blood. She doesn’t’ back down from anyone. Right now I lazily watch her from the space between my cubical wall and book shelf as she dusts the most random things in the office. I admire her because I too could be up, cleaning around my desk, dusting, making the work space look nice… Ehh, fuck it. With fifteen minutes to go, who cares?
This is exactly the attitude that has gotten me into the 256 pound rut I currently find myself in. Okay, so that and my ADD coupled with my love of video games. Oh, and if you add in my love of food, that’s also part of the problem. Don’t judge me now. Food is my vice since I don’t smoke, drink and though I live in California
Supportive guy that he is, Ed has also so graciously joined the Weight Watchers ™ program with me. He also has the same love of procrastination, gaming and food that I do, so I guess that makes us both enablers of one another’s fat assed-ness. But we just joined the program last night so only time will tell.
10 minutes left in my day, and one of the warehouse guys just slaps down a new fresh stack of paperwork in front of my face. I can smell the dust and wood from the warehouse. Awesome… I scowl as I look down at it and sigh. Fortunately it’s stuff I can key in first thing in the morning. Why isn’t it a Friday? It feels like a Friday and it’s screwing with me.
Out of boredom I start to bite little pieces of dead skin from my chapped lips. Sad that the most exciting thing I have to look forward to tonight is meticulously weighing my food and measuring every little thing that goes into it, and playing World of Warcraft. Oh I suppose you can throw in getting gas as some excitement, if you’re so inclined. Maybe I’ll go to the little coffee house where Ed works and pester him for a minute?
There goes that god damn phone again, always ringing when I was in the middle of a thought. That’s what I get for being unable to figure out what I wanted to do with my life while I had the chance to go to college. Then you get stuck doing customer service jobs and pipe dreams of being a real writer.
Either way, no deep thoughts come into my soggy brain. No meaningful lessons to share or touching personal experiences. Just bored ramblings. Perhaps, next time?
No comments:
Post a Comment