You know, today was a good day at work. In fact, a great day. My boss came back from his day off to avoid venturing out in the cold weather the day before. We talked for a bit in the morning, commiserated about his team, we spoke a bit twice during the day, and he left for the day. He didn't say goodbye, but I was on my headphones, just as he's usually listening to his music. It's all good.
Also, I kind of hate to say it, but I was kind of happy that the other two temps didn't show up today. They were supposed to; I don't know if they were taking a second day off from the cold (it was very cold today as well, but even though it was as cold in the morning as it was the previous morning, we got up above 0 in the afternoon) or, Buddha forbid, something bad happened. Regardless, it was a surprise I enjoyed. Why? I don't know. Maybe I am selfish in liking having the whole area to myself, even though the other two have been great, quiet co-workers.
I was able to just do my work, virtually without incident. However, I got really, really tired. And when I get really tired, I kind of start talking to myself. Well, I usually talk to myself, but when I get tired I really talk to myself. It's usually about things that piss me off; in my mind I imagine arguments and fights, real or imagined.
I can't help that, but I need to start working on what I sometimes do on top of that: Mouthing what I say at these arguments and sometimes even acting them out. I don't know why I do it, I just have done it all my life, and I probably got caught many times. I got caught at My Favorite Late-Night Italian Place acting out and the cook saw me.
This afternoon I did it again, and this was a lot worse, I think. I was getting coffee in the break room around lunchtime, but there was no pot of coffee. In fact, someone decided to clean out the filter, as if no one was getting coffee for the rest of the day. The person who did that does not know me, apparently.
So I stood there, debating as to whether or not I should make a pot of coffee. I run the risk of being the only person who was going to get a cup, which would be a massive waste. Then again, it was only noontime, so there might have been someone, and finally, I just needed some fucking caffeine in me. So I decided to make a pot. I do it all the time. But just this once I was hoping that it was readymade for me.
As I was slogging through one of those angry thoughts appeared in my head. I imagined I was in Williams Arena watching the University of Minnesota men's basketball team play against a team from the Southeastern Conference. That specificity is important because in this "dream" that SEC team is up big late in the first half or early in the second.
Still with me? OK. So then this SEC fan starts hooting and hollering, like I imagine some stereotype from the South would when they're beating a team on the road. He then belts out, in as loud a voice as possible, "By the way, what the hell is up here in Minnesota?" After getting fed up by his obnoxiousness, I turn around and tell him, "What, besides a decent literacy rate?"
Then this Southern-fried idiot and I go back and forth. He then poses in the Karate Kid crane kick on me, and I lose it. I charge up the stairs at him, but I stop quick enough to avoid him actually crane-kicking me. I then swoop in underneath his kicking leg, lift him up with my bare hands, turn him over and throw him down on his red-state neck on the concrete steps of The Barn. Ooh, the imagery and actions are so vivid I feel like acting out as I type this.
But then I realized I was still in the break room. And as I looked up, the "spell" broken, I see the woman whose work I'm doing for the point in the project look at me, stunned, then looking back at the other people eating lunch at the table with her.
Oh, shit; did I just act that out? Did she see? Oh my God, did everybody see? I think they did.
Well, she didn't speak with me the rest of the day. And we've talked about how I often talk to myself. I hope she remembers that the next time she needs to talk to me. Hopefully she won't be afraid to approach me. Worst-case scenario: My time with this place is cut short because they think I'm weird.
Oh, fuck me, why do I do this to myself?
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