Whew. Sixth day of work, finally got it totally right. Smack on when I counted out. I feel enriched. Or something. Yeah, I definitely feel something.

I'm so glad Marie's back from France. I think I'm going to spend tomorrow harassing her while Jenna packs. If it involves being somewhere cool, too, then praises be.

It's funny, I knew this ahead of time, but I'm still surprised; when I'm working, eighty or so percent of my thoughts involve work. I'm so boring to talk to because who really cares about this stuff? At school I always talk about school, too, but at least with that it's classes in a few different subjects. (Music, music, music, music, music, and philosophy. Right, enriching.) I don't know how one gets past that. What do other people talk about?

When talking to friends, I talk about a) what I'm doing, b) what they're doing, c) my interests, d) their interests, e) news-type things, f) general philosophy, and g) books. I guess that works out pretty well, but it just seems to me like a lot of it never meets in the middle. Oh screw it, I don't understand human communications. I can do it, that's the best I ought to hope for.

I bought silver and gold gel pens recently for a purpose I'm not revealing to absolutely anyone. I just need some black paper now... and a bit of inspiration. And a ruler. And some other stuff, probably. And actual artistic skill. Fucker, there went that idea.

So I've noticed that our company sells a whole lot of meat substitute-esque things. I've wondered on occasion for the past year and a half, almost, if I'm going to end up giving up vegetarianism, and if I do, when. Now that I'm committed to working at this company (for at least a year, I hope), I think it's encouraging me not to go back. I've now got access to any meat substitute I could ever want. Plus I've still got my brainwashing in effect. We have hand sanitisers next to the registers, and I seem to use them more when I'm handling meats. It just makes my brain go, "belllach." Uh. Wow, I'm not sure that *was* what my brain did, but it's such an interesting typo that I'm letting it live.

I wonder sometimes how I wandered down the path I've come. I think I like it here, but I don't know how it happened. I tend to think of myself as entirely capable of being overlooked. I think I spend all too much time drawing attention to myself. Histrionic, you know. Probably a remnant of my childhood, blah blah. But in many cases I really do think I ought to be utterly unnoticeable and unremarkable. But everyone knows me. I wish I could meet me from the outside and see.

I ought to open a bank account tomorrow or Wednesday. Probability that I do so? Eh.
posted by Unknown at 11:21 PM