I Need a Drink

I Need a Drink

I didn’t anticipate my day going this way. I thought it would be much smoother, but it was riddled with pseudo drama and I just wasn’t ready for the stupidity. Getting here this morning at 10 and finding the door to my office being closed still was my FIRST sign of a bad day ensuing. Of course, it’s my fault for not remembering that K was gonna be out today for his appointments. No idea where G was but she texted me later. So I relaxed back into my chair thinking, it might be an easy going day because I did what work I WOULD be doing in the morning from home last night. I felt all high and mighty when I got a “Where is ‘this’?” email from one of the head honchos and I was like “Here… and it’s been there since yesterday. Refresh your page *beyootch*” (the beeyotch was silent). But just feeling like I was on my game. Then I get a call from the GM – “Vic (he never calls me that so now I’m all nervous) I need to see you, ‘at your convenience’.” I learned that lesson from him before. He doesn’t mean it. It means NOW BITCH. LMAO! Last time he said “at your convenience” I didn’t come through for like… 2 days. It wasn’t convenient yet. And he tore me a new one. “I would think the GM of the company asks to see you… you would WANT to make it convenient.” Nice. He needed some journal ads done. (out of the scope of what I do… but am I supposed to say no? Of course not.)

Sit back down for all of 30 seconds and had to mill around some more. Getting papers from here, approvals on that, shmooze with this one… convince that one about what they’re doing and how it benefits the company. Had a SUCKY lunch, so now I’m starving. Got tickets to this VH1 Save the Music thing tonight that I’m not even going to attend and I feel like I can’t even GIVE the tickets away, because of course I’m the ONLY one of my friends whose schedule is completely NOT committed! Then the piece de resistance… one of my bosses is leaving. Which means for her… freedom. Which means for me… new boss. Gotta shine up my shoes and do the “I deserve to be here” tap dance so they don’t “fire” me. New person to impress. And NO advancement for me. I gotta get outta here. Today, and forever.

And I need a drink when I do.

On a lighter note… I was thinking… There are certain poets and writers who freeze time with the power of their thoughts. Everything stops and the only motion that measures seconds and minutes is the distance between their words. With every word that passes, you draw closer to the page or the screen hoping your proximity will enhance the experience. Unfortunately you can never get close enough, so you read over and over and over hoping that each pass will emboss the story onto your soul so you can retell it to yourself in moments of solitary. And you exhale when it’s done because you’d been holding your breath the whole time. You didn’t want ANYTHING to interrupt that ecstacy. Not even the breeze of life from your own body, where you realize both hands had cupped your mouth as you read, riveted. Ultimate, the final breath is a sweet release so much so that you collapse backwards in your chair, eyes closed and relive the story in your mind.

These artists are few and far between.

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What’s the Worst that Could Happen?

What’s the Worst that Could Happen?

I’ve been on a music discovery for the last few days. Just forcing myself to listen to new music, because I realize I’d been listening to the same drivel over and over and over. Powerful thing music is… if you constantly listen to lamenting, sad, regretful songs… guess how you’re going to feel? Yeah.

So in listening to the WHOLE of Zero 7‘s album – Simple Things, I came across this song called Distractions. The chorus says:

I love you, I love you, I love you, I do
I only make jokes to distract myself
From the truth, from the truth.

I can say I know more than a few people who’ve done exactly this. Present company included. But if we were to just be honest with ourselves and look at our truths right in the face and admit them. What’s the worst that could happen? The worst that we are probably staving off by joking it away. But it’ll come anyway.

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Say Anything

Say Anything

Seems to be what New Yorkers are inclined to do. I’m standing on the platform this morning just minding my business. Well, really, minding my eyes. Some mixture of the right amount of cold in the air plus the wind made them a watery mess. So as I’m carefully dabbing away at the corners of my eyes for what seems like an eternity, waiting for a train to shelter me from the wind. Around the time that I’m dabbing away, this gentleman (i’m using that loosley based on what he’s about to say to me) comes up to me. Good looking man… chocolatey, but in my neighborhood, that could be a latin cocoa or dark chocolate. Very confident… he says to me… “You remind me of something funny someone once said, and I hope you don’t take this the wrong way…” Me, already backing away from the edge of the platform cause you just can’t trust anyone stood silent waiting for the “funny something” my raised eyebrows signaling him to continue. He leaned in and said with a smile, “They say that a woman with watery eyes has a wet… well… you know…” I panned away from him and was like… “Are you really saying this to me??” And he said, “I’m not trying to offend, I swear! I just had to share that with you, I thought it was funny.” And I responded… “Fair enough… but it’s a little rude, don’t you think? I don’t even know you.” He reached his hand out to introduce himself. “Francisco…and you are?” He said smiling. I thought about my hands having wiped my eyes left and right and then… do I REALLY want to know anyone who opens with a “watery eyes=wet pussy” line??? Not really. “Leaving,” I said. And walked to the other side of the platform. Amazing what folks will say.

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