The light at the end
I’ve been trapped inside of my own head for the past few months, going about my daily business but constantly preoccupied, and frequently exhausted. It’s amazing that I get any sleep at all, with so much spare electricity in my brain at the end of the day.
One of these days I’m going to visit the new “fitness center” in our building. It used to be a billiards room, but the table had clearly seen better days, and I imagine that kids were using the cues as makeshift lances in Camelot-like horseplay (or just beating each other senseless, ’cause we really don’t need to make up reasons anymore), and probably eating the chalk. Anyway I’ve gone to size L shirts, and it’s becoming a struggle just putting my jeans on in the morning, so maybe I could try, just try and get a few minutes on the treadmill. Not as comprehensive a workout as I did back in college, but I’ve gotta start somewhere.
But I keep putting it off. I keep wanting to blame it on the weather-it’s bloody humid right now-or on working late. That’s all bullshit of course. Truth is, I’m just not motivated. You’d think general health and well-being would be reason enough, but it isn’t. There’s no one I’m looking to impress, no special someone or even the possibility of it. I’m so uninterested that I might as well be asexual.
And it’s not as if I have many real friends these days. This is mostly my fault; I’m crap when it comes to keeping in touch. And we’re all insular, wrapped up in our own shit, working insane hours and coming home to apartments that are empty except for booze and mumbling voices, echoing like ghosts in the dark. Most would say that misery loves company, but most of the time I just want to be left the hell alone. At least I’m more conscious of it now. I make it a point to apologize after my outbursts. It’s nothing personal. It’s just me.
I can’t even be bothered with Warcraft anymore. I still play, but with nowhere near the same amount of enthusiasm as before. Many of the co-workers I used to play with have either scaled back significantly or quit altogether. There are five, maybe six people on at any given time, and sometimes guild chat gets so quiet that I check whether or not I’ve been kicked. I stick around for the sake of those who remain, but even that’s getting harder to justify. There have been days where I’ve been beaten to a pulp at work, only to come home at night and find myself in the middle of a dungeon run gone terribly wrong. It’s supposed to be a game, and it’s becoming more stressful than the job that pays for it. I might as well save myself the aggravation, not to mention $15 a month.
* * *
I’ve all but decided to buy the computer. Funny that after all these years of basically lusting over it, I’ve got the means to buy one-but not the desire to put down the plastic right away. For one, it’s a hell of an investment for someone who’s basically living paycheck to paycheck. I worked hard for that money, and a part of me doesn’t want all that to evaporate in a single transaction. Mommy and Daddy aren’t helping, and I’m not about to ask. They already do so much for me-more than they should at this point in my life-and I’m extremely reluctant to ask for more. Also my entire value system has changed. I’m not much for toys these days; I get over the oh-my-God-shiny feeling pretty quickly. In the end it’s all excess, waste, unnecessary complication.
But now I’m tasked with teaching people how to do things with applications that I can’t run at home. The iron I’ve got is pretty damned old, and I’m actually pretty damned proud of it. People with means can replace their computer every two or three years; the one I’m using now is almost seven. It takes a considerable amount of technical ingenuity and persistence to keep a computer up and viable for that long.
In theory I could get another year, maybe two out of this thing. But really, it’s time. Maybe I’ll be more excited about it when I actually get my hands on it. But for now I remain ambivalent. It’s an investment in my future. It’ll help me do my job better. Or at least that’s what I’m telling myself. And I’m making the somewhat generous assumption that I have much of a future to invest in.
One of these days I’m going to visit the new “fitness center” in our building. It used to be a billiards room, but the table had clearly seen better days, and I imagine that kids were using the cues as makeshift lances in Camelot-like horseplay (or just beating each other senseless, ’cause we really don’t need to make up reasons anymore), and probably eating the chalk. Anyway I’ve gone to size L shirts, and it’s becoming a struggle just putting my jeans on in the morning, so maybe I could try, just try and get a few minutes on the treadmill. Not as comprehensive a workout as I did back in college, but I’ve gotta start somewhere.
But I keep putting it off. I keep wanting to blame it on the weather-it’s bloody humid right now-or on working late. That’s all bullshit of course. Truth is, I’m just not motivated. You’d think general health and well-being would be reason enough, but it isn’t. There’s no one I’m looking to impress, no special someone or even the possibility of it. I’m so uninterested that I might as well be asexual.
And it’s not as if I have many real friends these days. This is mostly my fault; I’m crap when it comes to keeping in touch. And we’re all insular, wrapped up in our own shit, working insane hours and coming home to apartments that are empty except for booze and mumbling voices, echoing like ghosts in the dark. Most would say that misery loves company, but most of the time I just want to be left the hell alone. At least I’m more conscious of it now. I make it a point to apologize after my outbursts. It’s nothing personal. It’s just me.
I can’t even be bothered with Warcraft anymore. I still play, but with nowhere near the same amount of enthusiasm as before. Many of the co-workers I used to play with have either scaled back significantly or quit altogether. There are five, maybe six people on at any given time, and sometimes guild chat gets so quiet that I check whether or not I’ve been kicked. I stick around for the sake of those who remain, but even that’s getting harder to justify. There have been days where I’ve been beaten to a pulp at work, only to come home at night and find myself in the middle of a dungeon run gone terribly wrong. It’s supposed to be a game, and it’s becoming more stressful than the job that pays for it. I might as well save myself the aggravation, not to mention $15 a month.
* * *
I’ve all but decided to buy the computer. Funny that after all these years of basically lusting over it, I’ve got the means to buy one-but not the desire to put down the plastic right away. For one, it’s a hell of an investment for someone who’s basically living paycheck to paycheck. I worked hard for that money, and a part of me doesn’t want all that to evaporate in a single transaction. Mommy and Daddy aren’t helping, and I’m not about to ask. They already do so much for me-more than they should at this point in my life-and I’m extremely reluctant to ask for more. Also my entire value system has changed. I’m not much for toys these days; I get over the oh-my-God-shiny feeling pretty quickly. In the end it’s all excess, waste, unnecessary complication.
But now I’m tasked with teaching people how to do things with applications that I can’t run at home. The iron I’ve got is pretty damned old, and I’m actually pretty damned proud of it. People with means can replace their computer every two or three years; the one I’m using now is almost seven. It takes a considerable amount of technical ingenuity and persistence to keep a computer up and viable for that long.
In theory I could get another year, maybe two out of this thing. But really, it’s time. Maybe I’ll be more excited about it when I actually get my hands on it. But for now I remain ambivalent. It’s an investment in my future. It’ll help me do my job better. Or at least that’s what I’m telling myself. And I’m making the somewhat generous assumption that I have much of a future to invest in.