Creeping to the End
I’m struggling with the idea of going to work on Monday. I realize I still have tomorrow and the weekend left for me, but it’s still such a draining thought, that of going back to the office. However, as soon as the weekly meeting is over on Monday, I’m going to ask my boss to finally set the wheels into motion so I can finally work from home. I should be set up already, but the holidays, vacations and general office laziness prevented the move from happening. I am hoping to be at home for a little over a week – at least until that shiny new HP Pavilion dv1000 gets here. Of course they’ll make me take the big clunker home, but I plan on using it as a coat rack . . . or something. Listen, when you compare a 10 year old Gateway to a zippy new HP, some logical decisions have to be made.
All in all, I just want to work from home already. I can get away from the smelly dogs, from the owner smoking in the bathroom illegally, from the Republican biddies making sarcastic comments about bleeding-heart liberals. Once home, I hope to fall into a nice schedule that’ll allow me to address my fitness and my work in positive manners. I’m sure I’ll be able to get plenty done. Rest assured, I do not want to become the kind of worker who is logged on every single day and works into Sunday. No thanks! Not that dedicated.
When March rolls around, we’ll see if a raise is forthcoming. All signs point to no. Even if all the stress from work disappears when I leave the office, I’ll hesitate to stay with a company that does not recognize my contribution even as they’re practically burning money on relatives who might as well be lumps of coal for all the work they do. If need be, I’ll begin to look quietly.
Changing the subject entirely, I received the strangest e-mail today. A woman who could best be described as an ex-friend sent me an e-mail that read: "WordNerd? Is that you!? How are you!?" I read it in confusion – I had sent this woman nothing, not for more than two years. We had a falling out in February 2002, and when she tried to insert herself into my life once more later that year, I was feeling still resentful and a bit apprehensive. When she started to ask too many questions about my personal life (questions that she was not entitled to ask, especially given our rift), I hid myself once more. She also wanted to sleep with my brother. Ugh, not going to happen. (I still remember when she showed up at my house all dolled up, hoping to meet A. I wanted to slap my hand over my eyes in embarrassment. My brother’s WTF? look was priceless.)
Anyway, going on with the current story. Looking at what I had apparently written, someone used my e-mail address to ask her to "click on this site." How incredibly strange that this e-mail should go to someone I actually know; more so someone I wasn’t particularly talking to at the moment. I felt it was a weird occurrence, and that it wouldn’t hurt to write her back, telling her that no, I hadn’t sent the e-mail, but that it was pretty funny it had arrived in her inbox. I politely inquired how she was, mentioned that a mutual friend had told me she moved to Arizona, and wished her a happy new year. An hour later she wrote back, detailing her new life, calling me an aunt to her cats*, providing her contact information and asking me to write her back.
I started to write back to her, but decided to delay it a bit. While I have no problem corresponding with her at this moment in time, I do hope to establish some boundaries, especially since the middle of the country now separates us. She’s capable of asking some inappropriate questions, so it’s best if I am just a tiny bit distant. Of course I’ll be nice, but there are some things I need to keep locked away in my book of memory. They’re not there to share.
Like any other person on God’s green earth, I get people coming back to my life on some sort of unclassifiable basis. It’s run the gamut from the "I barely knew you in kindergarten but I remember you!" person to the ex-boyfriend who declares, "I ran because I had some serious feelings for you." Each tends to raise my hackles just a bit – "Departure is a simple act, you put the left foot down, and then the right." I’m not much for contacting people out of the blue. It’s like . . . meh. There’s no thrill in it for me.
Changing subjects yet again, with the year winding down, I’m trying to organize my New Year’s resolutions. I haven’t done resolutions in four years. I’m actually quite good at following through. I need to have something on paper (or on this blog) by tomorrow at 11:59pm, or they’ll never get done. I know one will include training for an event (probably a half-mary, maybe a marathon, perhaps yet a triathlon – that’d whip me into shape), one will include drinking more of the stuff of life (read: water), and yet another will include curbing my temper. Of all three, I’m likely to break that last one on January 1 at 12:01am.
Out with old, in with the new. So, out with my boring entry.
*A side note. Why do I always attract female friends who adore cats? I hate cats. They’re arrogant, demanding, ugly and stupid. I do not like being called an aunt to any kind of creature that hasn’t sprung from the loins of my siblings, let alone a feline. All of my friends insist that I embrace the cat. No, damnit. I hate, hate, hate cats. I’d kick one if I could. There is nothing in a cat that stirs any feelings of tenderness or appreciation in me. Keeps cats away from me. The only type of cat I like is a Kit Kat, okay? My sister, who is sitting next to me, adds, "I hate cats." See, we get along great here at Casa WordNerd.
