"like a fog and a mountain, together, forever" Concrete Blonde
I sit here at 8 am
Saturday morning,
noding and
thinking. This weekend should be interesting.
Lilah is coming down for the weekend from
Connecticut, taking the ferry from
Groton to
Port Jefferson, which is about 20 minutes away. I have to meet her in a few hours. My first vistor to the posh
palace. I don't know what to expect, but I'm sequestering any
emotions until after she leaves. We kinda jumped in bed the first time we were alone, and she seems like the type that keeps things buried deep. I wonder. It's been nice being alone here in
Long Island, since I came to the realisation that I detest Long Islander's accents and demeanor. Well, detest is a strong word, but it's a far cry from my
southern honeys and classy
CT girls I'm used to. The old addage, "
When in Rome" is
bullshit..when you're in
Rome you
eat till you
puke, then eat some some more.
Adapting is giving in, as far as I'm concerned.
For any following my travails at work, new news. Yesterday I just couldn't take it anymore. I was doing a winding at a slower speed, concentrating on getting the color blend perfect and the
threads nice and smoothe for this big piece I was working on (which would ultimatley sell for about two grand), and my boss came over, and in a very
cancerian way, hinted that I wasn't ready to work the lathe on high speed, which he wanted (to make the
process go faster). Okay, smart guy, you figured out how to get what you want from me, piss me off by
insinuating I can't do something. So I cranked up the
lathe speed, bitched and swore as the thread cut my
hand to ribbons, and tripled my output. Of course he was right, I got the job done in a
flash, but my
mood and
moral suffered exponentially. How did I
deal? Popped a
xanax and a half hour later, la la land. I left at 5 pm and came home and slept until 2 am. His last words: "good job today, 100% better then before, I'm proud." Good for you man. I really like my
work, the
people, but this return to the
insane northern
desperation is driving ME insane...especially with absolutely no outlet. I'd surround
myself with my little faery
girls again if I could, but that always brings more
pain than
pleasure. Hmm..maybe
prescription drugs are the
saviour of
mankind. Whatever. I hope my
node this
morning (see
The Perfect Pooping Method) brings some sunshine into the lives of my fellow noders, as I bet most of them are addicted to
cigaretttes and strong
coffee as I am. Let me know. More later kiddies, and if you're good, maybe a
poem.