ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh the weekend blues.

12 more hours to indulge in my freedom before being shackled to my desk again for another 5 days. i'm ready to quit my job.

if i was in the financial position to do it, i would in a second.

i actually cried in the bathroom on three different occasions last week. pms you might say? pffffffffffffff. i'm just finally starting to unravel i think. i have invested too much and things are starting to get to me.

so i made my dear friend have drinks with me on friday night. to "forget about work." unfortunately, conversations here always take the inevitable turn down the lets-bitch-and-moan-about-work road. that's all we have.

i stopped writing a month ago when i realized that the only thing i have to talk about anymore is fucking WORK. give me a fucking break.

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there it is.
the line drawn in the sand.

so friday night....


my darling girlfriend came to my rescue. we went to this APT like bar that is plopped in the middle of the ghetto but is still very cool if you don't mind the occasional crackhead stumbling in. it's always a strange thing when this happens. you might think that it would be one of those moments where the record scratches and everyone stops and stares. but it's not.
not at all.
no one even skips a beat. it's as if the crackhead is a carefully chosen accessory. a little off the wall, but adds a certain character to the whole ensemble.
the bartenders are sub-par and think they are very fabulous. so at one point we started a game with the people across the bar from us. let me preface this by saying that bob thought the man was giving him the eye (even though he was with his girlfriend) and was looking for a way to make contact. i saw the girl looking for the trashbasket to throw away her napkin while i was very annoyed waiting for a new drink so i offered my glass for her to throw her napkin. and the game was a success. and the bartenders, who apparently don't like inanimate objects hurled at face level across the bar, were NOT impressed.
nor were they amused.

i seemed to be having somewhat of an identity crisis on friday night.

i went to the bathroom and the only man in the bar wearing a suit stopped me. he said, "who are you?" i said, "excuse me?" and he said, "i know you're somebody. who are you?" i told him it depends on the day. and sometimes i'm not even sure.

then later, at another bar, i was asked what country i am from. i suddenly started feeling like a martian. he may as well have asked what planet i came from.

the weekend was ok, but left me feeling unsatisfied.
i went to my favorite places and did fun things, but some reason it was off. it all felt forced this weekend. like we were re-enacting. or going through the motions...

i haven't figured out how our new friend bob, the oppressed homo, fits in yet. and i mean that in terms of: every time i meet a new person, i try to figure out how they will affect my life. like, will i still keep in touch with this person in 10 years? or even one year? you never know, he could end up saving my life one day.
it's very strange that i just met this person for the first time on thursday and have socially engaged with them every single day since then. suddenly someone you've never met before is thrown into your life and it's as if they were there all along.
you just keep the ball rolling.

we decided today that this was probably our last pool day of the summer. it is officially chilly when the sun is not up. i saw an orange leaf two days ago. i am afraid of the fall this year.
we are all on such different schedules.
the fall here comes and goes so quickly.
it is a short road to the impossibly cold winter.
christmas, new years, where will we all be?
where does time go? why isn't it tangible?
i saw weird lines on my hands and feet to day.
victims of TIME.
why am i so freaked out by it?
why has it become my enemy?

i didn't think that this would be when i would post this, but i had a tragedy last week.
i found out that a friend/old neighbor from my last days of college/freedom before starting a "career" died recently.
26 years old.
found out she had breast cancer and was too far gone to even be treated. she lived 3 more months.
and gone.
poof!
gone!?!
WHATTTTTTTTTTTTTT
i had no idea.
an ex-boyfriend actually called to tell me last week.

what's so strange is that i had recently flipped through my phone and saw her number and thought, i wonder how she's doing? i wonder if i'll ever talk to her again?

i guess not.

it's so strange.

time.

it's like quicksand.

it just doesn't stop.
the only absolute.
it just keeps going. steamrolls right on through.

all the sudden when things like this happen, or even when you discover new lines in your feet or hands, it's as if you're in a vacuum. everything fast forwards.
all at once.
suddenly your fresh and unique life is a grotesque example of how we're all the same. and how we're powerless against time.

so what do you do?

yesterday i wanted to come home and cry into my cheerios. not because i should've been a better friend to stephanie but because of her shining example. you get so caught up in the day to day bullshit that suddenly a year or 10 years have gone by and you didn't' even notice. sure we all know the way it works. you grow up, you get old, you die. but it always seems vague and so far in the distance that it's not even a speck on the horizon. and then you see stephanie. instead of life's usual slow and steady burn to nothingness, she went: BOOM!
an explosion.
the silent predator suddenly exposed.

time to do something about it.

time to make a list and be wise with your time. economize.
you minutes are worth more than your dollars.

make an impression.

it's the only thing you CAN do.

have fun and leave a legacy.

ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
so much to do.