I thought I had something to say…. But then I took another half of a klonopin. Is it because I don’t have to go into work tomorrow until noon or is it because I just wanted that feeling… that dazed, dislocated feeling…. I don’t even feel like I’m breathing. I really only need 1 pill to block out the neighbors fighting downstairs. I need about 2 or 3 beers, 1 pill and a pillow over my head to block out the sound of my 300 lb neighbor upstairs gettin’ some. I sometimes wonder if they will fall right through the floor and crush me. What a horrible way to go. At one point, I think there was overlap and it was coming from downstairs and upstairs at the same time - - it was all of 8pm. The woman downstairs was yelling, the woman upstairs was moaning and the 2 men were both grunting - for different reasons of course. I felt like…. I felt like I was beyond “stuck in the middle.” I felt like my f’ing head was going to explode. I started saying why me… and then I realized that maybe this was karma taking a hit out on me and that I should retrace my steps to figure out why, why, why I was and am in a living hell. Not only am I in a living hell, but I pay to live here. I suffered through it - - sans pills because I had an interview in the morning. Big mistake. Huge. Almost as huge as the man upstairs… and by the way, there was no moaning the second time around at 2:30am…. It was just bang, bang, bang, thump. Bang, bang, bang, thump. I’m not sure what the thump was, but I’m going to go ahead and assume that he is not a skilled lover. Shake it off… I’ve got to shake it off.
The interview…. Well, I don’t know how it went because I have not heard any feedback yet. 3+ days and still radio silence. I wonder, is it me? You know when people tell you “it isn’t you” and “it’s their loss” that they are full of shit, right? I know it’s me and it’s both of our losses. But, we’ll see. I still have an 8% chance that I might get a call back for a second interview. The fact that I saw people from the office at Oktoberfest that same day (later that night) could either work in my favor or completely destroy my credibility. It’s out of my hands. I have to learn not to dwell. That’s a tough one.
I’m just such a dialogue whore…. I just want dialogue - tell me yes, tell me no - gasp, maybe explain it to me. But tell me something. I hate silence. I guess that’s perceived as bad…but like the 63 year old I met the other night said to me, “fuck ‘em.” Now, I’ve heard that before, but he was really speaking to my soul, speaking to my self-doubt. And I appreciate that. But still. There is a part of me that just wants to go back to certain times…remember and even relive them all over again. Bathe in what I felt at that very moment.... Was it a trashy make-out session in the financial district of San Francisco? Hell yes. But it was great. I felt alive. I felt like me. Do I have to do everything by the book? Whose book is it anyway? I’m not a bad person…. I like to experience things. I like to feel something unexpected… something that takes you away from where you were earlier that day…. And there you are. You are right where you want to be. And then it ends and you have to create a new place for it to fit in. And then time occurs and it fades away. I want to hang on for as long as I can. Quietly hang on... And then loudly let go. Not because I want to, but because it’s just too much for me. Before it becomes a - - god forbid - - an issue. Gasp. "People - we have an issue here!" Before that happens… I go cold and simply press delete. That’s what happens when you intertwine a surprise moment with a jaded past…. No choice but to let it go. Maybe not right away, but eventually. And maybe even take a karma hit for it.
