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Thursday, February 10th, 2005
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2:53a
I think it's because of the perception that you're lazy.
It's 2:53 in the morning and I can't sleep because that little sentence is echoing in my mind. Kristin stayed up with me for a while. She was falling asleep, but she said she didn't want to leave me awake.
I'm focusing on thoughts of her because she makes me laugh by singing songs from Blue's Clues and she makes me feel safe by saying that she doesn't think she'd love me if I were anyone but me. She will be here in a day and a half. She will card her hands through my messy, messy hair and she'll look at me with eyes full of love.
I tried to work up my nerve to tell my father about her explicitly tonight, but all I could manage was saying that I'd bought her a present for Valentine's and referring to the two of us an a 'we' and an 'us'. I'm sure he understood. He said, And you want her to meet your mom? as if my mom would scare her off completely.
I worked today. Working feels good. Now that Pat is doing most of the bookkeeping, I feel much more confident. I've realized that I know as much as she does and she's worked for Art for a dozen years or more. Before I didn't have any standards to apply to myself, so I judged myself on knowing how to do everything- and of course I don't know everything.
But I do know a lot. I helped Pat put together a set of accounts receivable for Art's financial files on the computer. I showed her how to write invoices and how to make payments. After I'd gotten her started, I got a box from the storeroom and started filing all of Barb's 2004 files into it. I made 2005 files as I went. I even color-coded. Pat ran into some problems with the AR balance not matching with her calculated value, but I helped her fix that and then I showed her which reports she could print.
Art is the most amazing man. He's turning 80 this year, if I remember correctly. You'd never guess. He works out of the house every day. I'm not sure what his title is. He's involved in just about every organization in town. Professionally, he appraises property. I guess that would make him an appraiser.
Barbara, his wife, is twenty or thirty years younger. She ran for mayor several years ago and is involved with city planning and economic development in every community around here. The girth of her work stuns me.
Pat used to be Art's secretary and she worked out of a separate office, but now Barb and Art have consolidated the offices. So they don't need me to keep Barb's books anymore, but I still work every week. Last week I organized one of their cabinets, the big one under the copier. Art told me today how pleased he was. I love organizing things, especially big, messy things- like their cabinets.
I want to work all of the time. I love being productive. It creates this physical sense of happiness that has no comparison to anything else I've felt. I want to be a baker and shape bread, break my back putting trays into the oven all morning long. I want to be a carpenter. I want to be a librarian.
I think I could be a librarian. It would force peace into my life. I would become mute. My hands would exist to hold books, they would become stained with print.
I don't know what to do about school.
( This is what I told Hannah on Tuesday. )
( This is what I told Kristin tonight. )
Then I talked to my mom about what other options might be for finishing school. I don't understand it, but this anxiety is crippling me. In the mornings, my legs really do feel as if they won't work. As if they're shriveled and weak and couldn't support a slug. I don't know what I'm going to do.
I feel like right now I could go tomorrow just on pure adrenaline. But it's also nervous energy and I don't want to let myself think that the nervous part won't win out when 7:30 comes along. I don't want to let myself down again.
Maybe I should. Maybe I should just keep disappointing myself- giving myself the opportunity to disappoint, that is. I'm not going to lose. I won't lose.
I HATE THIS I HATE THIS I HATE THIS.
So much anger. I don't understand. Why don't I understand? I'm supposed to be able to do anything, but I can't. I don't know.
Ali's been mad at me lately. I don't know why. I feel lost without her. I found myself almost begging her. Please, please just be nice to me. But I can't do that. She wouldn't grant me that anyway. She's the coldest person I know.
I don't love anybody like I love that little girl.
current mood: tired
current music: Monday Monday Monday -- Tegan and Sarah (1 comment |comment on this)
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