I went on vacation for nine days and after what seemed like forever I finally went back today.
Sadly, it seemed like nobody at work seemed to notice or care that I was gone.
I don't care, though. I'm still riding on the high of my birthday. Yesterday was amazing. I'm still riding on that awesome, liberating rock star feeling.
After my experience yesterday I seem to care more about my life and less about the world around me. That might sound like a bad thing to some but to me its music. I get so angry and upset at the ignorant people that I see at work and near my home. Like the homeless people that angrily accost you for change and the rich upperclass yuppies with their Gucci sunglasses and the black moms who don't pay attention to their four kids and the toothless crackheads and the ignorant teens wearing Scarface shirts and the lazy caregivers who let their speds (Galindo-ese for special education people) run around because they're busy reading Murderdog magazine. They anger me and disgust me and somehow I think I get angry at them because subconsciously I think they're ignorance is a reflection of me.
Well that's no more. Now when some asian lady on a cellphone cuts me off and almost crashes into me I just take a deep breath and shrug. I am my own life and that makes me happy.
That might not make any sense. But it makes sense to me.
I miss my OLD bookstore in Phoenix, the one next to Metrocenter mall. The employees seemed friendlier back then. I think more people at my Metro store would care that I was gone for nine days. I'd get a ton of hugs, I'd have to tell everybody what I did while i was gone, and then after work we'd all walk over to Bennigan's and drink ourselves silly to Dave Matthews Band songs on the jukebox.
I take my job too personally. I want all my fellow employees to be my best friend. But I think everyone else at work is smart and just works there for the paycheck. I thought everybody at work would miss me while I was gone and for a while today I was really angry at them. Now I'm angry at myself for thinking that.
The picture I used for this post I took a couple of nights ago. My wife and I are recovering ex-smokers, my wife a much heavier smoker than I was. I think at my peak I smoked a pack a week but usually I would go thru a pack of cigarettes every two weeks. So I was a regular smoker but nowhere near on par with what would be considered a "regular" smoker.
We have somehow taken to smoking a cigarette together on our porch in the cover of darkness really late at night every second or third night or so. It's good to go out in the stars with my wife and just smoke and talk. It reminds me of 2003 when we met at work, fumbling lustfully through a relationship at a breakneck pace. I think we started having a cigarette here and there again because of a combination of Natasha's tax job, my being overworked at my job and the relationship problems we're working on. It's good having this quiet time outside with her.
Plus I just thought it was an awesome picture. I'm wearing a skirt in that picture, too. Nothing sexual about it. It was clean and I didn't feel like putting on pants.
SCROLL TO THE BOTTOM OF THIS PAGE TO LISTEN TO MY HILARIOUS AND WILDLY OFFENSIVE PODCAST!