(no subject)
My precious laptop is stricken with some malicious software. Functionality decreases daily. I want to back up my files-particularly my precious newspaper archives and my text documents-but I am afraid of infecting the storage device with the same. I had been considering recording a video entry as requested by rednails22, but given the status of my computer, this won’t be happening either.
Went to dryland training on Wednesday. The new girl, Ashley, showed up. Fortunately for her this was an “easy week.” (George has no faith in her returning, but then George has no faith in anything.) After training she spoke to me at length about photography (she was interested to know that I was considering getting a masters degree in photography). As George came forward the conversation naturally turned toward how bad things are. (All things are terrible in George’s mind.) This is when she mentioned that things were “bad” for her now, though as she described it, “flat” would have been a more appropriate term. It would seem that she has hit a lull in the events of her life.
George instantly started to refute this by explaining that he was old and fat and made less money than she does. He makes “sixteen” to her “forty five.” She couldn’t understand how someone could survive on such low pay. She retorted that George wasn’t old in her eyes: her last boyfriend was sixty. (At the time I thought I had misheard her, but the context in which it was stated suggests otherwise.) By this point my position in the conversation had dropped from a major participant to a minor commentator. George went on to explain that he is a “mad scientist.” (I have completely forgotten how the conversation got onto this track.) Again, she refuted: she has an ex-boyfriend who works for NASA. He oozes “mad scientist” while George doesn’t come off as such.
As he drove me to the train station he told me he thinks she likes me and said that I “should put it in her.” I am an unemployed, unpublished writer who lives with his parents. I build rockets as a hobby (at best). She has an ex-boyfriend (not even current!) employed at the agency that put humans on a celestial body. My personality leaves much to be desired (or at least questioned). I am woefully behind.
I’m not terribly concerned. I’m not aiming for her. I’ve stopped trying at such things. I am missing too many pieces of the puzzle to comprehend the picture which others around me just get naturally.
Went to dryland training on Wednesday. The new girl, Ashley, showed up. Fortunately for her this was an “easy week.” (George has no faith in her returning, but then George has no faith in anything.) After training she spoke to me at length about photography (she was interested to know that I was considering getting a masters degree in photography). As George came forward the conversation naturally turned toward how bad things are. (All things are terrible in George’s mind.) This is when she mentioned that things were “bad” for her now, though as she described it, “flat” would have been a more appropriate term. It would seem that she has hit a lull in the events of her life.
George instantly started to refute this by explaining that he was old and fat and made less money than she does. He makes “sixteen” to her “forty five.” She couldn’t understand how someone could survive on such low pay. She retorted that George wasn’t old in her eyes: her last boyfriend was sixty. (At the time I thought I had misheard her, but the context in which it was stated suggests otherwise.) By this point my position in the conversation had dropped from a major participant to a minor commentator. George went on to explain that he is a “mad scientist.” (I have completely forgotten how the conversation got onto this track.) Again, she refuted: she has an ex-boyfriend who works for NASA. He oozes “mad scientist” while George doesn’t come off as such.
As he drove me to the train station he told me he thinks she likes me and said that I “should put it in her.” I am an unemployed, unpublished writer who lives with his parents. I build rockets as a hobby (at best). She has an ex-boyfriend (not even current!) employed at the agency that put humans on a celestial body. My personality leaves much to be desired (or at least questioned). I am woefully behind.
I’m not terribly concerned. I’m not aiming for her. I’ve stopped trying at such things. I am missing too many pieces of the puzzle to comprehend the picture which others around me just get naturally.