Going for my run tonight as usual, just like the other several hundred times I've done it, but this time, something -- I think it was the copious acorns on the sidewalk -- caused me to spill. Hard. Worst fall I've ever taken on a run, which isn't saying much. Usually I just scratch myself a little, but I'm able to get back up and keep going. Not this time.
My ankle is now nicely sprained, and I have a nice chunk of skin missing from my right hand. Which is just perfect. I mean, totally emblematic of my life of late.
I've resisted writing about my personal life lately because, well, who cares? Even I find it tedious, and I can't imagine anyone seeking out my little corner of blogdom for insights into my little life. And to top it off, things have just been depressing lately anyway. It got busy for a bit, but then got even more depressing, and who needs to read about that? I certainly don't want to relive it anymore than I have to.
But then, maybe I should. It could be, you know, therapeutic and shit. Yeah, sure.
The summation is: Went to a wedding, had a great time, but mostly it just served to remind me of how my life seems utterly behind those of my peers. Which is being rather generous, I suppose. I never seem to hear about the people who, say, get divorced three times and have one kid to show for each one. Okay, not very often anyway. But when your lifelong best friend gets married and you haven't had a decent date in a while, well, you start to get a bit of a complex.
And then there was the job. I don't even want to talk about it.
Yes, I do: My boss was a bitch. Not that she let on to it right away. No, of course not. She preferred the passive-aggressive, find-out-from-a-third-party method. I knew when I met her that she was one of Them. You know, the people with no discernible sense of humor. She struck me as an ex-sorority vice president, not quite popular enough with the Mandys to warrant presidency, but pushy enough to wind up with the Miss Congeniality spot. And the type who bugs everyone to submit their memory sheet so they can put it in the yearbook, oh my God!
Or maybe I'm just bitter. I don't know. What I do know is, maybe this whole corporate thing isn't for me. Bit what's the alternative? Somebody tell me. Quick.
The hits just keep on coming. Had a miserable fight with my brother when I really didn't have the energy to work through it, so I essentially hung up on him. Felt really good about my maturity that day. He and I have never seen eye-to-eye, really, but he always had the age thing on his side. Much like all my brothers and sisters do (I'm the youngest), but none of them really choose to wield it as often as he does.
Thing was, I was calling him to offer my sympathies.
Oddly enough, though, the writing thing has a renewed sense of purpose. I suppose it was the end of the aforementioned job that really kicked me into gear on that. So I suppose some good came of it all.
I got two interesting e-mails the other day. The first came after I was reminded of a girl who moved away when I was in sixth grade (or was it seventh?) after doing some idle research into a story where the fellow had the same last name as she did. (And, in the interest of total disclosure, I had a terrible crush on her before she left. By which I mean I didn't do the crush thing very well. But it was pretty intense, being my first one and all.) So I googled her, but her name turned out to be far too common. The depths of my memory pulled out the name of her father, though I'm really not sure why I recall that piece of information. I can barely remember my own middle name most days. He was much easier to find, and so I sent out a tentative e-mail to see if he was indeed the same man. And, apparently, he is.
More as that story develops.
As for the second e-mail, it arose after seeing a familiar name in bylines for Entertainment Weekly. The name, in this instance, wasn't common at all, so I was fairly certain that the fellow in question was, in fact, the same guy that I used to work with at the paper. So I blindly poked around the mag's site for an e-mail address that I could send an inquiry to besides the general e-mail box. And not two days later, the guy writes back, and it is indeed him.
I'm still not sure how to reply to that one. I'm sure something'll come to me.
So that's a vague summary of where things are of late. I have this vague feeling that something, something is right around the corner. I just haven't got a clue as to what it might be, or when I could expect it. And hanging on for dear life has become somewhat difficult of late. It's gone beyond boredom with the same old, same old. It's starting to wear on my psyche to the point where I'm getting worried.
I wish that, whatever that something is, it would hurry up and get here already...
My ankle is now nicely sprained, and I have a nice chunk of skin missing from my right hand. Which is just perfect. I mean, totally emblematic of my life of late.
I've resisted writing about my personal life lately because, well, who cares? Even I find it tedious, and I can't imagine anyone seeking out my little corner of blogdom for insights into my little life. And to top it off, things have just been depressing lately anyway. It got busy for a bit, but then got even more depressing, and who needs to read about that? I certainly don't want to relive it anymore than I have to.
But then, maybe I should. It could be, you know, therapeutic and shit. Yeah, sure.
The summation is: Went to a wedding, had a great time, but mostly it just served to remind me of how my life seems utterly behind those of my peers. Which is being rather generous, I suppose. I never seem to hear about the people who, say, get divorced three times and have one kid to show for each one. Okay, not very often anyway. But when your lifelong best friend gets married and you haven't had a decent date in a while, well, you start to get a bit of a complex.
And then there was the job. I don't even want to talk about it.
Yes, I do: My boss was a bitch. Not that she let on to it right away. No, of course not. She preferred the passive-aggressive, find-out-from-a-third-party method. I knew when I met her that she was one of Them. You know, the people with no discernible sense of humor. She struck me as an ex-sorority vice president, not quite popular enough with the Mandys to warrant presidency, but pushy enough to wind up with the Miss Congeniality spot. And the type who bugs everyone to submit their memory sheet so they can put it in the yearbook, oh my God!
Or maybe I'm just bitter. I don't know. What I do know is, maybe this whole corporate thing isn't for me. Bit what's the alternative? Somebody tell me. Quick.
The hits just keep on coming. Had a miserable fight with my brother when I really didn't have the energy to work through it, so I essentially hung up on him. Felt really good about my maturity that day. He and I have never seen eye-to-eye, really, but he always had the age thing on his side. Much like all my brothers and sisters do (I'm the youngest), but none of them really choose to wield it as often as he does.
Thing was, I was calling him to offer my sympathies.
Oddly enough, though, the writing thing has a renewed sense of purpose. I suppose it was the end of the aforementioned job that really kicked me into gear on that. So I suppose some good came of it all.
I got two interesting e-mails the other day. The first came after I was reminded of a girl who moved away when I was in sixth grade (or was it seventh?) after doing some idle research into a story where the fellow had the same last name as she did. (And, in the interest of total disclosure, I had a terrible crush on her before she left. By which I mean I didn't do the crush thing very well. But it was pretty intense, being my first one and all.) So I googled her, but her name turned out to be far too common. The depths of my memory pulled out the name of her father, though I'm really not sure why I recall that piece of information. I can barely remember my own middle name most days. He was much easier to find, and so I sent out a tentative e-mail to see if he was indeed the same man. And, apparently, he is.
More as that story develops.
As for the second e-mail, it arose after seeing a familiar name in bylines for Entertainment Weekly. The name, in this instance, wasn't common at all, so I was fairly certain that the fellow in question was, in fact, the same guy that I used to work with at the paper. So I blindly poked around the mag's site for an e-mail address that I could send an inquiry to besides the general e-mail box. And not two days later, the guy writes back, and it is indeed him.
I'm still not sure how to reply to that one. I'm sure something'll come to me.
So that's a vague summary of where things are of late. I have this vague feeling that something, something is right around the corner. I just haven't got a clue as to what it might be, or when I could expect it. And hanging on for dear life has become somewhat difficult of late. It's gone beyond boredom with the same old, same old. It's starting to wear on my psyche to the point where I'm getting worried.
I wish that, whatever that something is, it would hurry up and get here already...
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