Dear God, My Spleen
10.21.05 (12:57 am) [edit]Well, the company lunch didn't get rained on. So we fucked off for two hours with a bunch of new cars in the parking lot none of us could afford. I ate far too much and spent half an hour in the car not reading Breakfast Of Champions, which was my original intent. Work went fairly well, and the extra amount of actually moving around meant my back wasn't utterly fucked at the end of the day.
I should be able to survive the loss of extra income this weekend, but I'll barely be able to do anything other than the most minimal expense during my time with Katie. Rent is coming out of the next two weeks. The gig with the northern band will help next week, but I'm not fond of the idea of spending a third week with just enough cash to pay for gas to and from work and maybe 5 bucks left. I could live with that better if I wasn't a month behind on credit card and power company bills, one of which could be taken care of if Pablo Fucking Escobar hadn't skipped town on the fucking gig this weekend. Goddamn cokemonkey motherfucker.
Well, so much for sleeping OK without the pills.It's after 2AM and I'm wide a-fucking-wake. I feel fine now, but I'm not looking forward to morning. Fuck, who knows. Sometimes I do fine. But I have enough trouble getting through eight hours of bullshit without my ADD-riddled brain going off to lunch. I should be a total basketcase by 5:30 tomorrow. I wonder what these guys think of how I can be totally on top of things somedays, completely burning through my work, then other days I need someone to hold my hand with the owner's manual out if I have to so much as take a piss. OK, that's an exaggeration, but it's embarrassing to have to go to someone seventeen times an hour for help on shit I was doing perfectly well the day before with. I outright forget things OFTEN. Really bad inexplicable brain-blockages that don't really cause problems (I'm at least able to catch most of them before they DO become a problem) but have to be annoying. Bob seems to just take it all in stride like it's nothing, which amazes me. He's remarkably easy to work with.
I'd be surprised that they keep me around, but given how fucking stupid some of the other people are, I guess a guy who still gets it right half the time is a bargain for them. It's still annoying to ME, probably because this is how I operate all the fucking time. The lithium seems to help me deal with my ADD better in terms of acceptance, but it doesn't make the shit go away at all. I'm just not breaking things and saying "fuck" quite as often.
I've had evil, nasty, sinful, delicious dreams about Naomi Watts in my head this week. For no real reason I can figure, I was just online one night and thought "I wonder if there's any really good pics of that chick from Mulholland Drive and The Ring?"
I haven't drank since Sunday. It's not been a hard thing. I've thought about booze, but haven't felt an enormous need for it. I HAVE been eating too much, which is what usually seems to happen. Go towards something else. I'm trying very hard not to think about sugar. Sweet delicious, yummy sugar. You know, I think I want a Snickers bar more than I want to chow on Naomi Watts muffin right now. Which is really wrong, dontcha think?
I hope I'm more fun for Katie on our time Saturday. Last week I was a cranky premenstrual bitch, and I wasn't really sure why, though I imagine the knowledge that I was going through more money than I can really afford didn't help much. We had no big problems, just a whole series of little thigns that all bugged the fuck out of me. I tried very hard to make sure Katie knew it wasn't her, it was just Daddy in a bad mood. I probably overcompensated, but I don't want her thinking of our one time a week as a chore. I doubt it will happen soon, but in a couple years, is she still going to enjoy my bullshit? I'm trying not to think about this too much, but it's there in my skull and not going away.
I told her that I was sorry that I wasn't a lot of fun, but we did have a good time anyway. And we kinda did. We got to see Wyandotte Cave and poke around a bookstore, and had a good time walking through Corydon, the original capitol of Indiana and a very pretty little town that has preserved its historic vibe much better than most of the towns in Indiana. Seems Ohio does better at that kind of thing for some reason.
So we got back to her grandparents' (she was in Louisville, which is about the same drive as Cincy from here) and she sat on Sheryl's lap and said "Daddy wasn't a lot of fun today, but we had a good time anyway."
She cracks me up.
At one point on the drive back from the cave (which is in a wonderful hilly part of southern Indiana, very close to a lovely view of the Ohio River) Katie asked me a question:
"Daddy, what's a waitress?"
I thought I'd been hit in the head with a brick. As I told her what a waitress was, I thought "Have you been reading my blog, kid?" What the fuck was THAT? I'm more baffled by it than really bothered by it, and it might have absolutely nothing to do with what I was thinking, but it sure fucked with my head for a while.
After nearly three months, I see it as more of a cute game than anything to hang the slightest hope on, but sometimes I think Amanda is probing me for a bit more, showing a bit of actual interest. I'm probably imagining it, and other days it's obvious she's just having fun and doesn't really care. But it's in my head anyway. I just don't feel like pursuing it further, and I really don't know why. It certainly isn't because I don't want to do her like a farm animal. But I've come to actually LIKE her. She's funny, she's smart, and there's been a few times where I've seen something beyond the usual, the part of her that is tired, has bills to pay, and wants to go home. She doesn't let it out much, that fabulous smile holds it back in, but a bit slips out here and there. Seeing her as a more complete person has been nice, and it has only made me enjoy seeing her more. For all my over-the-top talk about wanting to bang like bunnies, I not that shallow. I'm just fucked up. :)
But I don't really believe it'll go anywhere beyond having lunch there once or twice a week. Which is OK. And knowing me, I might change my mind at any time and go after her for real. Hey, I haven't made an idiot out of myself in a while, why not?
Dougie