Today's chai was tasty.
I've been staying up until about 1:00 am every night, writing this blog, editing this blog or researching for this blog. Okay, that last part is more like...facebook creeping, reading tweets and general web surfing, but I believe that "researching" makes me sound more credible and honestly, where do you think I get my inspiration for this blog? So, I feel that it is fair to call it researching as long as I put that little disclaimer in there.
Moving on. My point is that I'm tired. Like, really tired. I grab my chai most mornings with this one friend of mine and he asks me how I am and every day I laugh and say, 'Dude, I'm so fucking tired, I stayed up until 1:00 am writing" and he looks at me like I'm nuts and says, "I don't know how or why you do that to yourself." Dude. I do not know either. Compulsive obsession? Pig-headedness? I've challenged myself to write every day for a year, but no where in that challenge did I specify that I needed to stay up until 1:00 am to write it. However, I am just that stubborn and if it means I'm up late writing, then I damn well do it.
Unfortunately, that sometimes means the quality of my work suffers. I write about stupid shit like how late I stay up to write. RIVETING. #sorrynotsorry.
God, the #soullesslattedrinker strikes again.
Someone asked me in the elevator, "How are you?" And you know, I was well aware that he was just asking to be polite and he expected the "I'm good and you?" answer. Poor guy did not get that answer. I decided, in all my wisdom, to verbally vomit all over him and tell him in one minute each excruciating thing that happened to me the day before and that was just yesterday's story. I didn't even get to last week, or the week before that. We walked out of the elevator together and I'll give him this, he didn't run for his office like a normal, over-loaded human being. He stood there, looking completely stunned at my revelations and just shook his head in awe. Like, this educated, well-spoken man was speechless at what I told him. We have worked together for years, he is a good guy and I consider him a friend, don't worry, I'm not so nuts these days that I would unload that shit on an acquaintance. But he is also a busy guy and doesn't have a lot of time to chat. I just looked at him and said, "I'm sorry, you asked me how I was and I'm sure you immediately regretted it. I'm great! Thanks for asking!" and we both started laughing and went our merry way. The thing is, he's asked me every day I've seen him how I'm doing for the past few weeks and I want to answer with, "I'm a women on the edge! I'm losing my shit to be honest!" But I always chirpily say, "I'm good! Living life! How are you?" I listen politely to his noncommittal answer and then continue on with what I'm doing. Today, I just couldn't fake it. Weak moment.
I also had a moment with another employee (not someone I work with, just someone I know) today that I actually laughed about later, it was so ridiculous. She asked me how my role was going and I said it was very good and that I had a great working relationship with my boss, so I'm happy to stay where I am for a while longer. She said that was wonderful, "You know Meg, if you can do a good job and you're happy and then you can go home and be a good mother and a good wife, that's what it's all about." And I replied with, "Yes, well, I'm getting a divorce."