A Little Bit Fragile

Reading back through the recent posts, I realize: pretty mundane lately, aren't they. Lots of what-happened-today-ness, very little introspection.

I've been percolating one of those introspective posts--and I think it's gonna be a doozy--but I've absolutely NOT been able to get it out. I don't know if I'm hormonal or what, but I'm in one of those phases where I cry while watching peanut-butter commercials. (And also where the mere act of typing the words "peanut-butter commercials" puts me into a Homer-Simpson-like state: tongue hanging out, eyes glazed, drooling: "Mmmmmm...peanut butter..." I swear those doctors who did the surgery took out my gallbladder and implanted a frickin' TAPEWORM.) I'm serious: the littlest things get me started lately. Of course, writing is just out of the question, which depresses the hell out of me because it's been SO damn long since I've updated anything. And October 30th is only three-and-a-half months away.

It's not that I don't WANT to deal with the underlying emotions--in fact, the other night I had a very bad, very illustrative dream which made it very clear what I need to do--but in between dealing with entire luggage-racks full of emotional baggage, the mundane needs to be attended to. Groceries have to be bought, work needs to be gone to, cats need to be taken to the vet, Brits need to be ogled. (Okay, that last one may just be specific to MY life....)

I'm tempted, of course, to tell the Brit how I feel before I leave. But I won't, and not solely out of cowardice either; I like the level of comfort in our friendship, and I don't want to wreck that. If I really thought my interest was reciprocated and there was a chance of anything more, I'd consider taking the risk--but he seems really devoted to his girlfriend, even when she's being a shrew. From what he tells me, I gather that they've been through QUITE a lot together, and I think he feels a sense of obligation to her as well. Since it doesn't look like he's questioning their relationship at all, I'll take the next best thing I can get: his friendship, unmuddled by open confessions of lust.

(Having said that, however: I intend to still be in touch with him long after I'm gone, and in case he ever leaves her of his own accord, I plan to pounce like a starving tiger on a can of Fancy Feast.)

I'm at the point where I'm starting to get all nervous about the new job. I've realized that I'm going to have to SERIOUSLY adjust my attitude and habits now, and that realization has led to another: I checked out of my current job QUITE a while ago. I slack a lot. I waste a lot of time and do a lot of stupid passive-aggressive things, and I don't work up to my full potential. I think it really started around here; not so much because of the contretemps with RuthAnne, but because I'd crafted a very solid argument as to why the database upgrade shouldn't happen so soon, and no one would listen. I tried to warn them of the problems I was foreseeing; no one listened, and almost every single one of those problems has come to fruition. And realizing that all this bullshit we've all been dealing with since April could have been avoided--that I wasn't just being a doomsayer but actually knew what I was talking about and that I'd been ignored NOT because my facts were off or because I presented them badly, but just because -I- was the one presenting them--that just set off every one of my bad little oppositional ways. Basically I just said all right, fuck YOU too and just dropped the work ethic out the window. Since then I've been getting by on the goodwill of my co-workers (they all give me credit for TRYING to avert this disaster and for doing what I can to help them deal with the aftermath) and by being an office clown. I'm probably much better-liked by my co-workers now than I ever was in the past, but my own level of professional pride in myself and in my work is pretty low. I'm excited to start the new job, but knowing myself, I'm a little afraid of my uncanny ability to make the worst of a good situation.

Of course, I still have five days to get through at the old place--six, actually, since I'm spending most of tomorrow in the office trying to get all caught up in peace and quiet. They're slamming me with meetings all week, which seems counterproductive to me but--oh well. Whatever doesn't get done just won't be done, that's all. And I'm going to try very hard not to feel bad about that.

And: only five days left!!!