My throat feels awful. Like I've been gargling gravel with bits of glass in it.
I sound terrible.
Edit:
In other news, I went looking through some of my old posts and...I forgot what I was like. I think now, looking back...I can begin to see how I must have appeared to others, and I understand the character references so much better. It pains me to be able to see it now.
Maybe that was why we had to wake up.
Yes. I am aware of Xanga's plight.
I did what I could, and we'll see what happens. In the mean time, I will carry on as I have. If at this time next month it looks like things will end badly, I will let you know where I have relocated myself. Please contact me if you are jumping ship sooner and would like to remain in touch if/when I set up elsewhere.
Anyway.
The dreamworld is doing unpleasant things to me again.
The entire time I was on vacation, I only recall dreaming on one of the nights, and as my dreams often are, it was a string of unrelated episodes, the third of which I got annoyed with and woke myself out of.
Part one involved my being at a Renaissance clothing store that was kind of like the Kmart of Renaissance clothes...except still owned and operated by a single person. This person and a competitor were stealing clothing and designs from each other, and had attempted to lasso me into their schemes against each other, but I wasn't having any of that. I tried to buy some clothes honestly though, and got accused of stealing by a large Viking man with glasses. Bah.
Part two involved a high school friend of mine whom I make special efforts to forget.
She was pestering me on why we never talked anymore, and I tried very hard to explain that I was trying to get a degree (but I already have one?), and make something of myself, whereas she was a slut and had ten kids...how were we supposed to hang out with all of that nonsense going on? We didn't resolve that issue, but I was glad when that sequence of my dream ended.
Part three was annoying...and fascinating to someone like me who is already very interested in point-of-view. My dreams have been including a lot of unusual POV shifts that I've never experienced before, and they've been much more lucid in the respect that I am at least aware that I'm dreaming, and can make small changes or wake myself up if I so choose. Still, it was an extremely short dream. One scene that I refused to even participate in, once I knew what was happening.
The way it began was with me being in two places at once.
On the one hand, my dream-mind--the one showing me the picture--was hovering near a railing on a balcony or similar platform. But I had no body. Instead, I was meant to observe myself as a character in the dream before assuming a POV from that body...and I saw a group of people run out of an office-looking glass building, and I saw my character...and decided I would refuse.
And I saw the character react to my decision because at the same time as I was hovering by that railing, I was also running out of the building. I already was him, whether I liked it or not. He did what I would have done. I could see him slowing to a walk halfway down some steps, withdrawing from the action of the dream while the others kept running. I saw him stop on the stairway landing, and get this look on his face that was so completely the look I get when I'm perplexed that I had no doubt that I was in both places at once, even if the image my dream was showing me was from that disembodied mind.
And then I saw the character look to where that disembodied mind hovered. And...the funny thing about being disembodied is that my dream doesn't seem to have the sense to let it move instantaneously. The floating self does exactly that...float. And swoop and rush, which is a funny thing when you have no body to give you the sensation of movement...only the image telling you it must be happening.
But, he looked to where I was, and I saw that because he was me, he knew what I knew. At that moment, I was wooshed irresistibly down toward the character my dream intended me to be. And both the rushing mind and the character whose body my ability to act and express already inhabited refused to allow this dream to continue. And I woke up.
I've been thinking about it off and on...what my reason was for refusing to dream that dream. I don't think I know.
I mean, it made perfect sense that I would dream I was this character...and my dreams make little enough sense...but I didn't want to dream it.
Curious.
Yesterday I was thinking again about leaving, and why I do not try harder.
I almost told myself that getting attached was the worst, but then I realised that was wrong. The worst is when I try and talk myself out of it and tell myself that all the reasons I feel that way are a lie.
The one thing I tried hardest to talk myself away from almost made me leave for good.
I don't want to try that ever again.
I mean...what if I believed myself?
I think I go to movies because I like loud noises.
I wouldn't've said that before, but I think I'm onto something. I am not joking when I say the surround sound, especially at low levels, has the ability to make me cry. It doesn't even have to be an emotional scene--I just get teary-eyed for no reason but that rumbling bass I can feel in my chest. I never have understood why so many people complain about things being too loud. It's my favourite bit about the whole experience.
I am also convinced now that I like to go by myself so I can think.
I went to see a movie after work today, but it wasn't going to be until almost two and a half hours after my shift ended. I went outside and walked around for a while. Everything was closed except the new iced cream shop. It seemed like a good alternative to the bars, which were the only other places still open (and where I was 100% more likely to run into my coworkers), so I went in and got an iced cream and sat out on one of the outdoor couches, in the cold.
For about four days now, I haven't eaten very much. I don't think I'm doing it on purpose. It's just that my body seems to have stopped prompting me to eat, and when I try and force myself to do something about it, I find out after a few bites that I really just can't. It wasn't until I woke up this morning that I even felt hungry, but then I spent the first few hours of my shift feeling extremely sick.
But I ate the iced cream alright. And I searched for a picture and promptly killed my phone battery (and scolded myself for not charging it before leaving the house). Then I got bored and moved to the outdoor area at the other end of the mall. For forty minutes I sat under a bunch of leafy trees strung with Christmas lights, and I watched the people walking around before they went home, and the people closing up the Italian restaurant for the night. My feet hurt, so I wound up being that creepy person who is sitting at a bench at night with their shoes off. Ah well.
I think I like our mall a lot better at night, but I like most places better at night, so that isn't saying much.
It all smells different.
Anyway. I went to my movie. So I could hear the loud noises.
I was slightly envious of Randal's story of going to the movie with Toni and Drew. He agreed it would've been better if I'd been there. (Probably because he is still certain that she and I are almost the same person. I sometimes feel like he goes out of his way to have us near each other for closer comparison.)
We have had some fun conversations lately though. I mean, I've enjoyed them.
Chris, a server, walks into a theatre we are bussing.
Chris: So Star Trek is over?
Toni: No.
pause
Chris: Oh. I get it. You're being sarcastic.
Me: No, she's quite serious.
Chris: Um. There's nothing on screen.
Me: Space is very dark.
Chris: I'm pretty sure I have a college degree--
Me: --as have I. You understand then that space is dark.
Toni: I have a degree in the internet.
Chris: Whatever. Y'all are crazy.
We watch Chris walk away.
Toni: I see what you're saying. Space is dark.
Me: I'm so glad someone understands.
-----
Toni: Ohmygosh! You'll never guess what I saw no less than five times yesterday!
I am 99.9% sure it's something related to tears, which we had been discussing collecting and selling as specialty drinks to the heartless.
Me: Probably not.
Toni: Spock tears! I timed it so I would know how long into the movie that scene was in case I had a free moment between bussing.
Me: I knew it.
Toni: Wait. You said you couldn't guess.
Me: I lied? I'm psychic.
Toni: Oh, right. That. Can I show you something on my phone related to this conversation?
Me: Mmm. I can make an exception.
Toni takes her phone out.
Toni: Look. Isn't it adorable?
Her phone background would take too much text to explain.
Me: Does this mean I should find a mirror shot from the movie and set it as my background? You know. To emphasize our 1% difference?
Toni: *smiling* Um. That's creepy. I won't try to stop you.
Me: Consider it done.
I won't pretend I'm not tickled to have someone around who speaks with my same levels of both sarcasm and false enthusiasm (they are not the same thing). With every single other person at work, there are beats in our conversations that make them seem staged (mostly my doing, I admit), but she never misses a beat. We should talk more.
I've been messing around with ways I talk at work again (gotta be entertained somehow), seeing what responses they get from everyone...I was tricked into using my British accent on a bunch of new people. That irked me a little, but I guess it was a good thing. It's hard to explain, but I think I'd get a similar response if I did a magic trick or brought in a cute puppy--beaming smiles or suddenly rapt attention from everyone around. Exactly what I don't want when I need people to be doing work. >.<"
There is a different one I've been doing when I actually want to disarm people. It's really stupid of me to do, but mostly it consists of using almost all declarative sentences, lots of exclamation marks, and suddenly changing topics. Like the way your dog might talk if it could. Brandi! I helped clean twenty and eighteen! It was bad. We broke a glass. It was really bad! But don't worry! It's all clean now. I'd like to eat. Can I please go for my break now? I can wait if you want. Then looking expectantly at her while she decides whether it's safe to stand near me. Usually things end in my favour though, so I won't write that one off entirely.
I did it yesterday and Randal said he didn't understand how I could even pretend to be that overexcited, but it's incredibly difficult for me to tone down my fake enthusiasm sometimes. It almost makes me believe it's real when that happens. If I didn't feel about the same as Eeyore all the time, I'd know it was real. But I do. And it isn't.
Tristan persuaded me to try and tone down the excitement. But clipped declaratives really do sound stupid when you slow them down. So I subtracted contractions and wound up with a speech mannerism that I probably should use next time Toni and I talk.
Tristan: So, can I ask who's drinking out of this skull cup?
Me: I am the only member of the management team who drinks from skulls.
Tristan: I should've guessed. This trash can probably isn't a good seat.
Me: I would not call it a good seat, but you can sit on it. I assure you it will probably not fall in.
Tristan: Um...I guess I feel assured...
Me: Perhaps my use of the word probably was ill thought out.
Tristan: *laughs* Don't worry, Spock, I trust you.
Me: ................
Tristan: And your expressionless face isn't creepy at all.
Me: It is very difficult to maintain.
That really is hard to keep up. Even with expressions. It's hard to keep myself from using apostrophes for any length of time. And I defy anyone who says otherwise. (Kind of like my effort to not use ellipses in this very long post!) I mean, I may even keep at it, just as a challenge to myself. (Not the ellipses thing, but the apostrophes and contractions in my speech.)
Because that's what happens when you spend 25-30 hours a week in a 6'x6' room with no air vent, and are expected to constantly be looking at hundreds of thousands of tiny numbers every day and make yourself a living daily-planner book because nobody can keep track of anything and you're overwhelmed with guilt if you don't make every effort to ensure that everything you knew needed to be done got done, and that it was done right.
I almost hate sometimes that I seem to be ideally suited to the job I do, simply because of my unfortunate combination of obsessive compulsion and a guilty conscience. At some point, I began to hate the notion of even thinking of myself as obsessive compulsive...but I still am.
Example: if you told me to get off the computer and go to bed, I could not just switch off the computer and do so. I would have to go to the bathroom twice to make sure I would not wake up, and one of those times I would have to wash my hands all the way up to the elbows because, all day long, I am often touching unclean surfaces with my elbows so as to not touch them with my newly washed hands.
It's terrible.
And, along with stupid stuff like that goes statements like this about OCD, "Its sufferers commonly share personality traits such as high attention to detail, avoidance of risk, careful planning, exaggerated sense of responsibility and a tendency to take time in making decisions."
That is 1000% me at work. Not in my personal life, maybe, but definitely at work.
And I sigh. And get back to my original point: I like to go to movies so I can think.
I thought about all this while I was at my show, and about some new drama that's going on at the theatre...we might be losing another manager, which I feel slightly responsible for even though it has zero things to do with me. I may only feel that way because it's the admin manager.
My counterpart and I have had four different managers in charge of us in less than a year. One of whom was fired, one who is currently suspended, and one who has proven so unreliable that senior management has refused to reassign this person to another work group.
It's like she and I are the equivalent of the Defense Against the Dark Arts position at Hogwarts. You get to be in charge of us and bad things happen to you.
And Wolf started whispering to me about that, and about why it keeps happening, and I wished and wished and wished I could stop being paranoid and stop with these ridiculous superstitious thoughts that get rooted in my brain and that I try so so so hard to let go of and can't once they take hold.
I just want to be wrong. It's not a good experience to feel so intensely that something is right, when you know your feeling is baseless and probably wrong, and to want so badly to actually be wrong, and it never turns out that way.
It's why I think I know things when I can't possibly know them, and why my bad feelings are so intensely bad.
I just want to be shown that this is all not true, and it keeps not happening.
It's very distressing.
I went for a very long drive after the movie, and I still don't know what to think.
It's bad enough that I may even write this much again tomorrow.
I decided yesterday that I hate myself...so I scheduled myself to work with the bussers tonight. Things went really well though, up until some of our sold-out theatres started ending and the other managers failed to respond to my request for assistance. But even then all that happened was that we had three shows that started seating about 5 minutes late. That's pretty good. (The perfectionist in me is just irritated to know that none of them needed to have been late at all.)
I am extremely sore right now though, from running around and around all night. I feel like for every step the bussers took, I took three because I still wound up doing admin tasks before my counterpart arrived, and had to put on my friendliest face for the new people so they would be off to a good start on their first day...
And at some point during the evening, I learned that one of our newer servers is seeking me out specifically to help them with problems...which is adorable, but that definitely added a lot of distance to what I already would have walked today. Unsure what to do with that one. Need to get them to trust the other managers more.
I may be paranoid...but I think I'm seeing a trend among our staff members who've come to sit in the office and cry for a minute. They seem to gravitate to me. Not in an excessive way...but...when things are going bad for them, they seem to look for me. It's touching...but ultimately, terrifying for me because even in a work environment that I am familiar with, I feel like I lose confidence in myself when I actually know someone is looking to me to make things better. There are enough sources of stress at work without my feeling like I need to look after anyone.
Which brings me to a story I had kind of forgotten about...
I always park at the top of our parking garage, and today I saw two little birds at the wall around the lot. They seemed like they could be baby birds, but I wasn't sure, so I parked and walked back over to where they were. They didn't fly away or even try very hard to hop away from me...I could have picked them up. I wanted to, but I didn't know where to put them. I couldn't put them on the ledge around the wall, because what if they fell off? :(
I looked at them for a few minutes, and they looked at me, and I could almost hear their little bird voices asking me if I was going to eat them, or if they were going to die, or what was happening...and I couldn't think of what to do, so I had to leave them there and hope they didn't get squashed.
It was horrible.
It made me think of little hurt birds, and how they just shiver and shiver, or breathe so hard and fast they look like they might pop...and you know they're going to die, but they do it so slowly and it makes you feel sick and awful and you want it to be okay...but it isn't.
*hugs all the little birds*
But don't worry. I managed to avoid getting overly emotional about little birds...probably only because I told three or four other people and, in doing so, wiped all traces of happiness from each of their faces. I hadn't really meant to...but...I won't pretend I didn't feel a little better.
I'm just there was not a trace of the birds when I left.
*sigh*
I think I'm getting obsessed with something again. I don't mean to...and usually I know when it might happen, but not this time. I mean, I guess I can kind of see how it happened...way back in college with an awful, annoying, feminist-rooted article that somehow happened to be based on this...but I wouldn't have guessed that it could sneak up on me and, in the span of two days, actually attempt to hijack the narrative I have been building and retelling myself every single day for seven years.
That's pretty strong stuff. I'm not sure how it managed to bowl me over like that.
I'm a little disappointed that I will probably be unable to find that article again...I has the overpowering curiosity...
I ought to have held on to more of my notes, it seems.
I have an obnoxios thought that keeps resurfacing...that I should find a book...we'll see how well I stave that off, eh?
Dear diary,
Today I was walking down the hall at work. Not usually a noteworthy experience, but there was a slow-moving knot of employees that was in my way. I swept briskly around them, and for some reason this freaked out one of the other supervisors. He said I was like a shark, zooming past a school of slow-moving fish.
Later, we were in our little 6'x6' office. He was eating iced cream and I was working on payroll when he told me he could not remember if he clocked in. I put on my serious face and said in my most deadly patient voice that I was getting tired of spending half my life chasing down his in/out times, and that if he knew what was good for him, he would please eat his iced cream in silence and try hard to avoid attracting my attention. He wound up snorting iced cream, but my serious face didn't flicker. I think I used up a week's worth of willpower on it.
Still later, I was doing a server's check-out. He seemed to think I was sad, and asked if the reason was because I had not received enough child sacrifices for the day. I was unsure how to respond and cannot recall how I got out of that conversation.
Then, I came home and saw on facebook that one of my professors wrote about missing me, and said he would be a much better teacher if he could teach one of me every semester.
Unsure what conclusions I should draw from all of this...
But I think I can say that I've succeeded in making other people be weird in regard to me.
I don't know how I feel about that.
Saw the Star Trek movie. Liked the first one better.
Although I was reminded of when I saw the last one. I'd forgotten all about it, but it was one of those peculiar moments in my life that I look back upon and want to punch my own face. Except I'm conflicted about that, too. Technically it wasn't my fault...that one...it was just one of those times where I open my mouth to speak, and something awkward comes out. *shrug*
Anyway. Today I could not talk again, but it was more literal...I had in mind what I wanted to say, but my body was rebelling and making sounds that were definitely not English words...and then my fiance declared me a Creagle.
I told him something about work yesterday, and it being determined that I had the eyes of an eagle, and the voice of a crow (I don't really have either...). I guess a mishmash of these birds are would be a Creagle.
I forget if I had anything else.
K, maybe. I still have not written to her. But I thought about things she'd say to me, and how annoyed I would get. I wanted to punch her face in sometimes, too. But she is one of the best people I know. I feel bad that I think of her in relation to Star Trek and then want to punch her face...but for me, the very word logic has strong (and not altogether positive) associations with her.
*considers*
It's frustrating that my fiance and one of my best friends both have this habit of telling me I'm being irrational (that seems to be his word...she always favors logical) when I'm already pissed off. It's one of those things that pushes Wolf closer to the surface...not that they're wrong about me. Now and then, I'm prone to fits of seriously flawed thinking...but I've never found it helpful to have this pointed out to me like that.
I feel better, but the last time I had yesterday's thought lodged in my head, she kept using that argument on me. It was painful. Possibly the coldest pep talk I've ever been given in my life. I was so mad at being spoken to like that...I told her later, of course, and she cried and I felt like a monster. But really...
I think I did what she told me to out of sheer spite.
And here I am.
So.
I have had the worst two days ever.
The kind where, must be time to die keeps popping into my mind.
I guess not. Maybe.
I am so, so tired.
Dreamed I should stop taking that acid-reduction medicine. Someone in my dream told me it would kill me. Now I definitely don't want to take it.
Then I dreamed something bizarre about...what? My cat, maybe? I can't recall. Something small and furry.
Goodbye.
He's broken, I swear.
Anyway. I guess I am done with winning. We did so good at it. This is the longest I have ever been winning. Ever. But we're broken. I can't be mad. I lost. It happens. *shrug* But it didn't need to happen.
if i just didn't get so angry
The other me would take care of it. But I'm broken. I was supposed to just hush. I did. I did so good at it. He was taking care of everything until we got angry. And just started saying words. I knew they were all wrong. It could be said better. Or unsaid. But I couldn't stop saying words, and all I remember is always the same. The bloody-red mist or the white-hot blindness that covers over what I was doing, but doesn't stop me saying the words.
I could have saved it if I wasn't broken. :(
Now I just can't think too closely about anything. I am listening to music, obsessive-compulsively arranging the songs depending on whether I was in high school, college, or out of school when I first heard them. I don't really hear them though. I hear nothing.
I think, deep down, that I destroyed something. I didn't mean to. I didn't mean it at all. I wanted to just be able to say nothing because at some point in my life I stopped being able to talk honestly about how I feel. I'm not a liar. That doesn't make me a liar. It just means I'm broken and I mess it up whenever I do try to say how I feel.
i can't breathe. its the same pain as when i was dying. i just know now and hope maybe i will not feel it.
I took my stomach medicine that I was trying to persuade myself I didn't need. Because the sudden stress of it is hurting me.
I should have learned better how to just shut up.
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