I'm Sitting On The Edge Of My Seat Writing This, Only Because I'm Not Wearing My Glasses
We’re sitting at a restaurant table, mere arm’s length away from each other, and yet I still feel fairly distant. I can’t bring myself to look at you directly, my eyes are swimming with secrets. I’m not comfortable sharing them just yet, and I won‘t have them given away. Silence starts seeping into our conversation. So we just sit there, chewing our food, both hoping on finishing relatively soon.
How do I keep working myself into this situation? I hate coming off as being deceitful, but I can‘t seem to carry a face-to-face interactions for more than five minutes.
Opening up has never been one of my strong points; I prefer to just write all down. At least I can dwell on exactly what I want to say. My mind is somewhat jittery and this is more comfortable for me. LiveJournal was free therapy. And yet I was willing to throw it away, all over a drunken comment. Well, screw that. I’m not paying see a therapist. So, yes, I’m finally triumphant return. And you were probably wondering, “who the fuck is ranting this long on my friends list.” And then BLAM! You realized it was your old pal, chrisheckisking.
My life continues to drudge on without desire. The only one true constant I rely on is repetition and routine. It’s a routine that doesn’t include me looking for a significant other. I’m just sitting here watching the shadows on the wall. Time is passing me by. My sister consistently inquires about my sexual orientation. One of my roommates feels dead certain that I’m gay. I’d probably have the same problems with the boys, so guess all you want. Stumbling upon a relationship would be great at this point, as long as it’s a person I can hold and who would answer a few of my quirky questions. How much is minimum wage where you live? *sigh* Nevertheless, I can honestly say that finding someone isn’t really a priority right now. I feel content with my current situation. I am alone, but not lonely. My friends refuse to believe that, which slightly bothers me. And if one more person points out that I’m a “good looking” or “decent looking” guy, I’m going to bop them on the nose. Take this as nothing less than a declaration.
I wish I can simply say that some sort of awesome sports/war wound is the reason that has rendered me dateless.
Don’t come to me for answers, for I simply don’t have any. I’ll only regurgitate little tidbits that have finally filtered down to me. Chalk it up to inexperience or my inability to be assertive. But I’m calling my own bluff here. I can’t help out. I can’t even help myself out.
On another note, the working elite has a new member amongst its midst. Well, scratch that… An old member finally applied for reinstatement: yours truly. This is my first costumer service gig since Moe’s. A local Albertson’s hired me more the a month ago, mostly due to the recommendation of a girl I barely knew the existence of in high school who is an assistant manager there, for the butcher’s block. There I get to dig my gloved fingers into meat and bone, while dealing with morons all day. Life starts wearing itself thin with each consecutive day. I feel badgered and abuse.
Are my values going to be dulled down in the daily grind like so many others? Why should I be an exception? I don’t want my career to consume my life to the point where I loose sight of my dreams and aspirations. How do I avoid complacency? There are so many others who have sidestepped away from who they used to be for easier lives. You can read it in some many faces these days. I just wish no one reads it in my own.
***
Oh, and by the way, I finally broke down and bought new glasses recently. I haven’t taken pictures of myself, so if you’re wondering what they look like, just take a Sharpee to any old picture of me and simply outline my old pair. That’s pretty much them.