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| Park Benches 2002, August 1 - 11:25 p.m.
My wrist is actually feeling much, much better. I feel a slight twang here and there but otherwise I think it has healed itself. I'm very pleased about this; I was afraid I would have to go through the rest of my summer with a bandaged wrist to work continuously saying, "No, it doesn't feel any better yet, no I haven't been to a doctor. Yes, I can do my work, I'll be fine." Tomorrow is my day off. Or at least it will be if work does not call me in. I'm 'on call.' They have housekeepers on call. I would love to call in sick one day and say, "I'm too depressed to come into work." Just to see what they'd do. But I couldn't do that to the person on call. I doubt I could if I had a legit excuse. If they call me in tomorrow I shall put a voo-doo hex on them. Right after I learn how to do voo-doo hexes. I was also able to book a day off for the lap top training course school is making me take. They don't want any fools manhandling their precious top 'o the line computers so they are making all students with a mobile computing course take a 6 hour seminar to explain how to use it, care for it and then to install the appropriate software. Goodie. I was desperately afraid to book it off. I knew I had to but I didn't want to face my Boss so I asked my supervisor (the one who calls me dear) to make a note of it. Boss, however, is notorious for 'forgetting' details like that. "I'm sorry... you can schedule me, I just wont be in town to come in." She really does scare the bejesus out of me. I've been thinking a lot about the other day with Hos and Catholic. It was good to see Hos again. She hasn't changed and in a way that surprised me, it was kind of nice. Her spiraling personality was one of the things that had always got me but she was her same old self. I had been afriad of who I might find in Hos's body. If there was some new person. But no. She was the same, outgoing, out spoken, chatterbox prima donna. I have discoved that I do like her still. I do enjoy her company. Just in small doses. Then I can sit back and be entertained with her melodramatics and eccentricities. Just because we're not friends in the way we were or the way we had always hoped to be, does not mean we cannot be friends at all. And the fact that I have come to this realization makes me feel very at peace with myself. Maybe we can't go back to the old swings and talk like we used to and be who we used to be, but I'm sure there is a park bench somewhere out there where we can just talk. Not about the past, which is cloudy and bad, or about the future that is uncertain and filled with anxiety, but just about stuff. About nothing. Our jobs, a funny story we heard the other day, something that caught our eye in the news lately. And maybe then we can fight about it and then go right back to our conversation like the old days. Maybe that much can be re-captured. Thank You - 2006, June 7
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