Like Every Friday

24 Jan

This Friday was a long day. I had a lot of hope for it. I didn’t get to try out for Vagina Monologues like I had wanted to because there was too much stuff at work to finish up. I didn’t feel right just leaving. I could have, but with these economic times, I feel like I need to show people that I appreciate my job and I am willing to do anything to keep it.

Talking about leaving early inspired some interesting conversation with people. Someone I was talking to was like, “You have a degree in Creative Writing? This stuff isn’t exactly creative writing.” And I explained how I ended up where I was and how I could have gone to grad school and how I used to write creatively. There’s a couple of people at work interested in reading my plays. I miss it so much. Being inspired by so many changing things going on around me. God, I don’t want to lose that. I thank God every time I sit down to write something new. I pray it’s something that just won’t slip away. I pray it’s like riding a bike, no matter how long I ignore that I can write, I’ll always be able to do it.

And it’s not necessarily that I’m not inspired, I am, but it’s different. I don’t want Jim to feel like he doesn’t inspire me, he does. I’ve always been able to write better when things are in transistion or when I’m on my period. That’s when my brain feels like scrambled eggs. So maybe that helps.

I also had a conversation with Mike about wanting to reclaim creativity and I asked him what he would have done in college if he hadn’t gotten a Masters in History (something he said he regretted). He said that he would have done Psychology, or Computer Science, or Sociology, but his ultimate dream that he didn’t have the stomach for was to be a vet. I thought that was interesting. He had all those possibilities. Did he choose the wrong one? And what can he do about it now? He’s 35 with a gazillion dollars in student loan debt still. He is terrified of losing his job every day and usually asks me at least once a day if I’ve heard anything bad about him from our manager. He said that he thought it was good that I was trying out for something, that he didn’t really have a hobby like that. I said, “But you have WoW.” And he said, “Yeah, but sometimes I only play it for something to do. To pass the time.”

I don’t want to get to the point where I’m just passing the time. That sounds really sad. I know he must be really lonely. But he has given up on dating in a time where more people are probably looking for someone to love than ever. He was jaded by and the bar scene and doesn’t know how to meet other people. Most women, if not all women, at work are at least in a steady monogomous relationship if not married and I think that he thinks the only place to meet someone for love may be at work becuase besides Target and home, work is pretty much the only place that he goes. I’m sure he could meet someone nice at Target. I think the people at Target are much nicer than Wal-Mart, anyway.

I just felt like my brain is on overdrive, so after making a spagetti Paul Newman meatball supper, I laid down, waiting for Marla’s call. My phone was only about four feet away and I slept through their calls and everything. I didn’t wake up until ten when the TV gets louder. (I think every hour that goes by the TV gets louder.) I’m sorry Marla and Keith – we really wanted to come over. But when Jim laid down, I laid down and somehow sleeping next to him on the couch puts me into coma. It makes me sad because Keith could get a job in Anywhere USA tomorrow and they could be gone soon and there would be that one night when I didn’t see them. At this point, we kind of have to party like every night is the last. I guess that’s why it has affected me so much.

But, the weekend brings new possibility. My husband is still asleep, so I continue to write.


2 Responses to “Like Every Friday”

  1. braincandle January 26, 2009 at 8:54 am #

    Don’t feel sad or guilty about Friday.

    I just hope I’m not imposing or taking up too much of your time!

  2. braincandle January 26, 2009 at 9:03 am #

    This is Marla. Keith, for some reason, logged in on my computer.

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