Boredom and Decadence
I'm sitting in my living room, in the big leather chair that reclines so nicely. I'm in a decadent mood: I feel like doing nothing, or very close to nothing. Maybe sitting in a cafe (but teleporting there, of course, and looking supercute and whatnot, not like I've been sitting around the house all day) drinking cappuccino, eating a madeleine, working on one of those goddamn stories I'm always starting. On the other hand, my mood is also one of sheer boredom. I get like this when I don't have anything specific to do -- or actually, when I don't have a lot of specific things to do.
Because, you see, I could go over the hill and volunteer for an hour or three at Cover to Cover. The excuse, of course, is that they didn't have anything for me to do yesterday except to shelve books. The counter-argument, of course, is that there's lots of stuff I could do -- like reorganizing and straightening of shelves. It's grunt-work, but I don't mind it, really. I like that kind of thing, especially if it means I get to be around books. But..but..but.. Well, but I honestly think the bookstore needs a complete re-organization. I think the children's section should be moved up front because it's one of the best features of the store and because all the strollers keep getting stuck and blocking the too-small "aisles" between the haphazardly-arranged shelves....oy. It's a fucking mess, really, except if you come in at first it looks nice and neat. Except behind the counter, where it looks absolutely awful.
But I can't yet tell them these things, because I'd really just alienate myself. And the solution to this problem of not being able to tell them (by "them" I mean the three owners) is going over there and just logging the hours and getting chummy with them. But of course....I can't really get my ass off this chair. I am absolutely pathetic.
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In other news, Sacha got back into town today. Still no real sign of interest from Austin or Aaron -- big surprise there. I don't know whether to be pissed off at them, as I usually am over breaks, or to just sigh and throw up my hands and chuckle, saying "Boys will be boys". Because really, that's the risk you take when you're friends with boys. Guys. Men.
What upsets me most, I think, is that there's nothing I can really do about it. I can't talk to anyone about it because...um...all my friends are guys, except the select few, and all of them are not here. They're in New York, in SoCal or Texas or somesuch, in France or on the train zipping around Europe, or...lost to the sands of time. The one person who IS available is the one person I'm seeking to get away from for a while. Scott is so painfully available that it makes me a little sick to my stomach.
Because, you see, I could go over the hill and volunteer for an hour or three at Cover to Cover. The excuse, of course, is that they didn't have anything for me to do yesterday except to shelve books. The counter-argument, of course, is that there's lots of stuff I could do -- like reorganizing and straightening of shelves. It's grunt-work, but I don't mind it, really. I like that kind of thing, especially if it means I get to be around books. But..but..but.. Well, but I honestly think the bookstore needs a complete re-organization. I think the children's section should be moved up front because it's one of the best features of the store and because all the strollers keep getting stuck and blocking the too-small "aisles" between the haphazardly-arranged shelves....oy. It's a fucking mess, really, except if you come in at first it looks nice and neat. Except behind the counter, where it looks absolutely awful.
But I can't yet tell them these things, because I'd really just alienate myself. And the solution to this problem of not being able to tell them (by "them" I mean the three owners) is going over there and just logging the hours and getting chummy with them. But of course....I can't really get my ass off this chair. I am absolutely pathetic.
_______
In other news, Sacha got back into town today. Still no real sign of interest from Austin or Aaron -- big surprise there. I don't know whether to be pissed off at them, as I usually am over breaks, or to just sigh and throw up my hands and chuckle, saying "Boys will be boys". Because really, that's the risk you take when you're friends with boys. Guys. Men.
What upsets me most, I think, is that there's nothing I can really do about it. I can't talk to anyone about it because...um...all my friends are guys, except the select few, and all of them are not here. They're in New York, in SoCal or Texas or somesuch, in France or on the train zipping around Europe, or...lost to the sands of time. The one person who IS available is the one person I'm seeking to get away from for a while. Scott is so painfully available that it makes me a little sick to my stomach.