Sunday, August 31, 2003

what an end to my week. It's been a little crazy, and I only have myself to blame.
You see, there's this bar, Martuni's, and whenever I go there I seem to get into some sort of stupor. Knowing very well that I had a job interview on Friday morning at 11:00am I proceeded to down 2 drinks, which at this fine establishment is the equivalent to 4 drinks. Did I mention that I didn't eat any dinner? What a swell idea! By the time we decided to depart I think I might have shared some thoughts (with my outside voice) about some of the open mic singers and swapped a few inappropriate comments about my former job to my replacement and my friend who still works there. I shared a cab to the BART with the replacement fella and have no recollection of the conversation we might, or might not have had. I do remember giving him an inexplicable hug and kiss on the cheek for making sure I got to the BART safely. I also remember almost falling down the stairs of the BART. Knowing if I would get on the right train was quite an ordeal and I think I might checked my palm pilot with the BART schedule 87 times. When my Superman (a.k.a. brilliant husband) came to pick me up at the BART station I had to pee so badly that I wasn't sure if we should stop somewhere on the road or if I should just wait ... I made it home, but it wasn't pleasant.

Now let me set this straight, I'm not writing about this because I'm proud of it (although I think it's comical and tragic at the same time). I'm actually quite ashamed. It's embarrassing and I feel like if I write it down I'll feel like I'm absolved from my guilt. I think the saddest thing is that I followed just about the same sequence of events the last time I went to this very same bar. So my solution is to do to one of the following a) never show my face in Martuni's again b) never go to Martuni's with these two gentlemen again b) tell the wait staff when I walk in there that I have a problem with this place and please only give me one drink c) if I exhibit this wretched behavior again I should at least get up and sing a song at the piano, giving others the chance to make fun of me.

Needless to say, I was quite ill the next day and almost didn't make it to my interview. It was a humbling experience and I hope to never repeat it. After all my bitching and moaning about not having a job I go and try to ruin the chance I have at getting one. And I also have to say that if it weren't for my brilliant husband I would have never made it through Friday at all. He really knows how to take a hangover and turn it into a day of accomplishments. I didn't know I could learn so much from him about such things, but this relationship just keeps on giving.

So I've learned my lesson, and walk away from this experience with a little less dignity than I had a week ago and a new box of Pepto Bismol in my medicine cabinet.

Wednesday, August 27, 2003

Our power was out for a good portion of the day yesterday, which was actually kind of nice. I had gone out to lunch with a friend from my old job and when I got home I couldn't do anything really productive around the house so I sat outside and painted for a little bit, which I probably wouldn't have done if I could have been vacuuming, or on the computer...etc. I have made it a rule that since being unemployed I can only watch a maximum of 2 hours of TV a day, otherwise I would probably be sitting there all day. (but I don't count movies, I can't let my Netflix go to waste!) When I was a kid my Mom used to let us watch 2 hours of television a day and my sister and I would use the TV page that came in the paper on Sundays to choose very carefully, sometimes I would use a blue pen to circle what I wanted to watch. I remember that I never watched cartoons when I got home from school because if I wasted my hours in the afternoon I would miss out on Happy Days or Laverne and Shirley or, god forbid, Charlie's Angels. I used to love that show even though I don't think that I ever stayed awake during an entire episode, I guess I just wanted to fit in. I was reading the paper this morning and saw something about this product to let you monitor how much time your kid is spending on the computer or TV. I'm a little unclear on this though, I mean couldn't you just tell them to turn it off? And do you need to get one of these units for each appliance that your child might abuse? I think that it's a pretty good tool for kids that are home by themselves a lot, but it makes me a little sad to think that parents have to turn to these gadgets instead of a mutual relationship of trust and respect with thier children. I also think that the cartoon on the website is a little creepy, and the motto "it's hard to argue with a box"... no doubt, but don't you think that the kids will still argue with the parents who control the box? I don't have any kids, so I suppose I shouldn't pass judgement, but I remember "the look" from my Mom would work wonders, no gadget needed.
While I'm on the subject of TV I'm just going to get this out of the way now... I love reality TV. It's a secret (not so much so now) shame of mine. There was a point when I would watch every reality show that came on, at least the first episode, to see if it was any good. But thankfully I'm past that stage and I've narrowed it down to few. I must admit that I did watch Meet My Folks the other night. It's terrible. The best thing about that show is the lie detector guy who shows up in the last 15 minutes. The lie detector test itself is lame, but the dude who runs the machine totally rocks my world. He has a killer comb-over and he laughs at not only the bad questions but will frequently chuckle when someone lies. I hope that someday he busts out into a hardy guffaw. But more than that I hope that I'm never driven to watch that show again.... it's really bad.

Monday, August 25, 2003

for some reason today was my angry day. Angry when I got out of bed, angry when I took a shower, at the store, in the parking lot (but that a given). I'm not sure why I'm this angry but I feel a little resentful today and I'm kind of regretting quitting my job. Don't get me wrong, I hated that job. I'm glad that I don't have to clean up after actors and I'm glad that I don't have to take people to and fro in a dirty company car, but I miss the companionship that I had in an office everyday. I miss the structure to my day and I miss being able to feel free at the end of the day. Yeah, I know, I'm free all day right now, but it's different when you sit at a desk all day and dream about the things you'll do when you go home and when you actually are at home all day.
When I see or talk to my friends from my old job I secretly want to hear them say "yeah, this place is really falling apart without you" or "it's just not the same now that you're gone, I think I might leave, too" okay, maybe not that drastic, but it's always nice to know when you've made a lasting impression and things really aren't the same without you. Doesn't everybody want that? I never imagined when I quit a job I hated it would make me feel so bad.
So I guess that's the root of the anger. And I try to get myself out and moving around and seeing new things everyday, but I really am unadventurous and I think that I may need a little guidance.
I also feel a little bad because I think my cat has caught on to the fact that I'm angry - he's been hiding under the bed all day and I can't get him out. It's okay when it just messes with my day, but this poor cat has no where else to go. Sorry, buddy.

Sunday, August 24, 2003

Today was the first time I experienced a hot day in San Francisco. Not that I spend a lot of time over there, because after all, I live in the East Bay, and for some reason find it crippling to cross the bridge. I met up with my pal Wil and we did some window shopping while sweating. I think it's the first time I've sweat (without being on a treadmill or rowing machine) since we moved out here two years ago. We stopped in the first store that was open and I thought something was wrong with me because I picked up a bag I thought was kind of neat and suddenly sweat was pouring down my face. I thought to myself "I don't like this bag that much", it's clearly been a while since I've dealt with any kind of heat. Nevertheless, I thought the sweating was okay, because I miss the summers in Boston. A little sweat helps me to remember what season it is. I still find it a little confusing when I can eat Thanksgiving dinner on my patio with a t-shirt on.
The window shopping was pretty fun, but I got to feeling a little sad, being jobless and all. Even though I couldn't afford most of that stuff when I had a job there was at least the potential. Now it's just a giant wish list of things that I don't really need. Things like glassware and vases and books. Coffee table books. We don't even have a coffee table.

Friday, August 22, 2003

and thus begins my attempt to journal all that is not exciting.
I rearranged the storage closet in the apartment. it's Anti-Procrastination week .so I figured what better time than now to put the vacuum and ironing board in places that are easy to get to. good times. I also washed a lot of dishes, had some friends over for dinner last night. Really missing a dishwasher...

I'm not very hungry, but I'm thinking about going to Taco Bell. I really can't think of a better way to "buy a vote" for the recall election.

Since being unemployed I'm really reaching for things to do. I've never had this much time off in between jobs and/or school and it's been hard for me come up with my own stuff to do... instead of having my day planned out for me. I know I should be enjoying this time, but I'm finding that relaxing is not something I excel at. Maybe I need some slacker training or something. I remember when I was working I would dream about things I would do if I had free time. So here's the free time, now what do I do?