5/05/2009
We always thought we could get away with it

Nine in the morning. I was listening again to Chris and Nicole, wondering if the rain really had something to do with my 45-minute "cruise" along the SLEX. They were talking about private investigators, cousin rivalry and, well, the stuff they usually talk about. So, okay, I made it through the traffic - or the lack of it - and got off the shuttle thirty minutes before. It wasn't raining anymore, but the skies still felt like four hours ago was frozen. And I started to feel very, very anxious, which is a bad thing, because I shouldn't, or at least I told myself I shouldn't. And I wasn't thinking of anything else. Work, in this case, is the best form of distraction.

Ten in the morning. I'm liking what I'm hearing. Honestly, though, I listen to stuff that would drown out whatever's happening around me, not that it matters. What matters right now are the things I'm ought to do - technology has, again, gotten in the way, and the stuff I was supposed to do are, well, impossible to do at this point. I hate this feeling, of doing nothing at all, when in fact you're doing something... well, except for this one.

Eleven in the morning. "There's euphoria, and then there's bliss," I told Rae. She thinks I'm blissful, but I think I never was. Depressed? Perhaps, but that swings, so I can't tell much, really.  But at least I'm doing something today. It actually feels good when things fall into place. In between talking to Ariane about Miakka's appearance on Unang Hirit, and Jayvee about whoever's dying on CSI: NY, well, this is getting a little comfortable. Weird Rae asked me about my YM profile photo - still the one with Piyar. Again, she's not my girlfriend!

Twelve noon. I remember what Kat told me about people who aren't "terribly important". I shouldn't worry about it, she says. Well, fine, I won't. Just funny that I wasn't implying that at all - maybe my wording implied that, in which case I'm still grappling with the issues of being lost in translation. On the other hand, I'm doing something that the rest aren't doing again, or at least as far as I am concerned. After all, I am out of the loop in everything, and in this case the possibilities at hand - something will happen, something else will happen, or nothing will happen - play with that fact of life. But oh, the virus scanner's activated itself. And the sun outside is actually shining. Sorts.

Fifteen past twelve in the afternoon. Bingo. Something else did happen.

One in the afternoon. I was texting Kat again. In fact, I was texting Kat since last night. I needed someone to tell me things, to quell whatever needed to be quelled, because surely they won't be even if I think they have. And, actually, they haven't been - I'm still overthinking everything, literally everything. Whatever they were, I forgot - I've thought them all out of my head in the past forty-five minutes. I guess I have to overthink to get rid of them, even if I can easily generate them again. But I ramble, like I always do. I'm expecting another spanking from Valerie when she sees this... so. Plans. Lunch. Productivity. I don't know. I'll try thinking again.

Two in the afternoon. I finished another article, had lunch, bought another pack of Twix, went to the ATM (damn salary delays), chewed some gum, and typed these words out. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll go deal with the Holocaust.

Three in the afternoon. I'm eating my Twix, watching CSI despite the buffers - essentially, an unofficial break before I get to work on my final tasks. It doesn't usually happen, though - I usually end earlier than three in the afternoon, which is admittedly worse since I feel idle for a longer time, while I hear clattering keyboards around me. Either that, or I'm too busy doing things because they got piled up or, in some cases, something comes up really late that it even keeps the folks at Seattle awake at midnight. Right now? Nothing much, really. Kat distracted me with talk of New Moon and her hopes for curly hair. I managed to give some beauty advice. And then I felt backstabbed, literally, literally, literally. But I'm overthinking again.

Four in the afternoon. Everybody around me's leaving. I'm actually one of the last to leave, since my shift ends in a couple of hours. The people in front of me have left by this time; the people behind me won't leave until an hour later. I've finished half of my remaining slideshows - they only take under ten minutes, and that includes thinking of captions that don't rely entirely on press releases - and have only two to go. And then the tedious uploading, unless technology gets in the way. At least I don't bluff my way to convince people of my know-how, although sometimes that doesn't work. For others, it doesn't at all.

Five in the afternoon. I just finished everything, and as the office slowly rids itself of familiar faces, I prepare my daily email to Seattle. Today was supposed to be an ordinary day, but obviously it isn't. And I can't make up any other reasons for this. Just that, perhaps, five months ago I got a fairly discreet shoutout, and five months later I refuse to return the favor. Sure, I may be ugly and have the attitude to match, but I figured bitches don't deserve my birthday greetings.

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