2006-09-22

I'm entering the low part of the sine curve that chronicles my attitude toward work. I hate everything. I was at lunch and wanted to fork my friend's face for not a great reason. However, I am getting better at self-psychoanalysis and I figured out why I hate everything. For today, at least. The woman that sits next to me came back from her month-long vacation and her being back caused all the other ladies that sit next to her to do their stupid whisper-talk shit and in that way this woman is a catalyst for my misery. Fortunately, she seems to lack the constitution to work more than 6 hours a day.

Idiosyncratic fashion ideas for work:
-Bulletproof vest
-White short sleeve shirts with black ties and black pants, every day
-Only purple socks (I can't find decent purple socks)
-Cardigans. No, I'm joking about this. Why would The Gap try to sell that?

There were these two girls freshman year who were big into "having talks." Like "we need to have a talk with so-and-so". And other people do this, but I mostly remember them doing, all the damn time. And I was thinking about it today on the bus, how weird this is, to sort of script out or map your little conversations and I really wonder if people did this before TV shows told them this sort of thing was normal. Anyway, I hate it and it's not normal. Do what you are supposed to do, as you would've learned if you were raised in my house: you let all of this anger toward everything build up and then you let it out once or twice a year, ruining a holiday. If you are my father, you are free to ruin any non-holiday, but you cannot express any emotion besides "reserved frustration" for the rest of the year if you are him. Only one person may rage at a time and you need to validate their rage by leaving them alone when they need to be left alone and sitting down and just shutting the fuck up when they need to yell at you and agree with them that you are a total screw up. This is how families work. I understand this. My brother does. My sister does not - she likes to cry and make weird associations between the alleged rage-source and things that aren't her fault. She'll get it, though - I'm sure of it.

For lunch I had a nice caprese salad situation that I was vaguely embarassed to order, but it was quite good. I said something self-deprecating that got a nice reaction, but I don't remember what it was so. When I got home I went to buy some shoes but I found the salespeople at Nordstrom more than a little embarassing, so I'm going to go to the Cole Haan store on Monday, when I am "working from home". John Fluevog is 2 blocks away, but that's for men who lack the relatively minor amount of self-awareness it takes to avoid wearing those type of "experimental" shoes.

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