I am getting really tired of always having headaches, dull thuds in the back of my skull that turn to a general feeling of malaise and sea-sickness. I am here in my cubicle; I stayed home sick yesterday to nurse my head, and managed to sleep late today and get rid of the rest of it. Now it comes back in pangs, perhaps since the world outside is coated in yellow dust (or pollen). I’ve never been one for allergies, poor Z. is allergic to seafood (although if you’d ask him, he says the stuff looks gross regardless — I disagree!). Now I want sushi. Anyway, I’m in my cubicle listening to my iPod and sipping a guilty can of coke, I rationalize it is to cure this headache. Really, the amount of low-fat triscuits I ate today gave me no chance to recover from the upset stomach. I am, as they say, my own worst enemy.
I am, in fact, so bored that I just did that thing you are taught to do in Kindergarten, putting a quarter under a sheet of paper and scribbling over it ono the sheet of paper to reveal an image transfer. This poor steno pad of mine is not going to last the summer.
Now I am listening to the Gin Blossoms, a song from the Empire Records soundtrack; the movie itself, I regret to say, was mediocre at best. My former roommate showed it to me twice, raving about it having a cultish humor like my most favorite David Wain masterpiece Wet Hot American Summer. It tried very hard, I’ll give it that. It was cute, but I don’t know, predictable? Yes. Also, Liv Tyler? I’m not a huge fan.
Worthless Empire Records trivia for you though, I know some friends-of-a-friend in Raliegh who have the first Rex Manning stand up that was made for the set.
I get so stressed out at this job even though its nothing even resembling what I want my career to be. The last two summers I worked here, I barely made any mistakes whether in reception or filing. This year already I’ve misdirected phonecalls, misfiled things, and generally forgotten all of the particulars of the job. All I wind up doing is reading blogs, the news, and shopping on etsy.
I’ll be heading to the mall, probably for a Panera dinner with C. again. It seems all my money disappears into the bottomless pit that is eating out, and you can tell by the drastic change in my figure (karma, I believe, for bragging to a former friend with weight problems that my thyroid pills would make me skinny. You think I’m a bitch now, you should have met me in elementary school.)
So another (albeit half) day down at the office, I’m about twenty minutes from go time. I feel refreshed in that I finished another book today, that makes 2 this month. I even read this 250ish page-r in one day. I’m feeling like the kid I was who used to participate (and pwn) the Sneaks the Cat BCPL Summer Reading Challenges. It’s been a slow recovery getting me to the point of having an attention span again, getting me back into the ebb and flow of being immersed in fiction. For a while I couldn’t even deal with subtitled movies in that it took so much focus, focus I took for granted, to deal with.
So yeah, I’ve run out of things to say. I have fifteen minutes left, a sore bum, and a quarter of a can of flat coke. Here’s to maybe purchasing some sunglasses perhaps, or maybe 10 minutes in Victoria’s Secret. Here’s to my mystery migraine sea-sickness not rearing its head again for the third night in a row.
Here’s to finding a way for Z. to visit me next weekend :]
