Back at the office after 4 days away. In the 2-3/4 years I’ve been here I am yet to take what would formally qualify as a vacation. Most consecutive days I got away were 5, but mostly I get 3 or 4 days here and there. I used to take random days here and there for anxiety and panic swings but that’s not happening so much anymore. I have not improved my issues and weaknesses, but I’m toked up on reliable and working meds that keep everything at bay.
It was not like this for the first year or so working here, and it was really bad the first several months in particular. I mean, for starters, taking this job after 20 years of not having a “job” job was a big, honkin’ huge deal for me. Maybe it should not have been such a colossal transition but it sure seemed like it as it happened. I blacked out long periods of time in the early months. But with the meds this just doesn’t happen anymore. I have never been a fan of pharmaceuticals or getting toked up on legal addicitives but if it’s making my life possible and more stable I’ll take what I have to take to stay sane, and employed.
I had lucid dreams a couple of days ago. Before me were crystal clear objects of mundane import. A pair of scissors. An unlabeled book. Some kind of food, I can’t remember what. I was controlling the scissors and opening the pages of the book but there appeared to be nothing on its pages. I’ve had lucid dreams before.
I’ve been battling a certain sadness the past week or so. Being alone again is a necessary condition given the circumstances previous, but the horizon of opportunity have for connecting with another like-minded woman seems vast to the point of impossible. On the apps I am basically invisible, competing against thousands of men virtually all of them more beautiful, wealthier, and more perfect that I could ever lie my way into making anyone believe. At work I resist and would likely outright refuse any connection with a co-worker. At first I was more open to those possibilities but not anymore.
I don’t go to bars anymore. I made one attempt a couple of weeks ago, finding a woman bartender so fucking rude and unpleasant I could barely believe I was even allowed to sit down. She took one look and deemed me a creep who would likely walk out on paying his tab. This was at a place I used to consider a semi-regular.
But I don’t even care anymore. A bar I used to frequent and which could be said to have meant something to me in years past closed down altogether recently. I could barely raise my phone to get a photo of the place before it gets torn down or turned into something else. I did get the picture but all I could ask was why. Why do I care? This was a bar where cliques were strong and bartenders would write themselves $20 tips on your credit card payment thinking you would not notice. I noticed when it happened to me and the bartender who did it made amends, but I could only ask (hypothetically) how many people would not take note of an unintended $20 tip on their bartab unless they check their credit card statements vigilantly.
This is boring, is it not? Morning text blast of no relevance or memorable heuristics. I found a couple of working payphones at the Brooklyn Museum. I knew those phones from the past but gave them up for dead a long time ago. It’s interesting because according to Melissa.com they are both T-Mobile Wireless now, not landline, with one phone showing an individual’s name as caller ID for some reason. I didn’t dig too deep but I found nothing obvious connecting that person’s name to PTS or to payphones. If PTS manages the phone’s caller ID, if it shows anything more than then number, it usually shows “PAY PHONE” or something similar. So I don’t know if this is really any kind of mystery or intrigue or just a characteristic of the phones’ transfer to wireless, as PTS has indicated in the past they’ve been doing in other areas. I also need to return to that library to see if my instinct is correct that the phones hang up after 3 or 4 minutes, not the 15 minutes advertised on the phone itself. So much to do.
