How awesome am I? So awesome, in fact, that I’m sitting in Zaxby’s writing this, because my computer at home is fucked.
That’s right, ladies and gentlemen. My computer isn’t “out of service,” “messed up,” or “a little screwed up.” It’s fucked.
Apparently, this particular Zaxby’s is the only place in the entirety of the county that doesn’t pick up wireless Internet, so I’m putting it in a word document and I’ll sit, sketchily, in the parking lot of something or other later and put it online. Maybe I’ll sit there a while, because I’d like to get online to talk to people. . .you’d be amazed how cut off I feel, not able to get online at home. (Note, much later: I found a hotel parking lot with wireless. Not sketchy at. all.)
So the last couple of days have been. . .”a whirlwind” feels like a really cliche phrase, but it’s the only one that seems quite right. I’ll start from the beginning — Friday.
Friday workday wasn’t particularly eventful in that I. . .don’t even really remember it. I mean, I’m sure I accomplished something, and I’m sure I went through the day with the usual sense of disconnect I feel at work, but other than that, it wasn’t anything special. Oh, except my outfit was kind of awesome. Black shirt, short khaki skirt, the black boots and bright pink tights. The tights are relevant later,
That reminds me. I’m not sure what Vi’s deal is at the moment, but she asks me. . .not daily, but at least two to three times a week about me going out on a date. Whenever I’m wearing anything relatively cute (which, if I may say so, is fairly often, in my opinion) she figures it’s because I have a date later. Maybe I just like to be cute. I hate almost every other aspect of that job, so why SHOULDN’T I look cute? I’ve mentioned picking out my outfit is a highlight of my day, so really? I don’t need a reason to look decent, I don’t think.
So the point of that is that I find myself in another one of those situations where I said something smart-assed, and she took it, grabbed on to it, and refuses to let go. I can’t remember if I talked about the guy that came into the office with the giant ego. Vi and I were talking about him after he left, and she said he was flirting with me. (Really, you can only take that with a grain of salt. I think she thinks everyone flirts with me.) And she said something like, well, what if he said he wanted to take you out to dinner? And I said something flippant like, “Well, I’d probably let him. I’m poor, man. All I have to eat in my fridge is eggs, apple juice and salad.” Which was only partially untrue at the time.
And now? She brings it up CONSTANTLY. “Well, you’re the one that said you’d let TheGuy take you out.” “You said you’d let TheGuy take you out, what about that?” On, and on and on and ON AND ON. My God. This is what I get for being a smart-ass. No, I would not go out with TheGuy. It was a joke. I was kidding. Please, please, PLEASE let it go.
So Friday, I was killing time after work because where I was going didn’t begin until 5:30. I was sitting in the newsroom, and NewJeff, Dennis, and Vi were still there. I said I was killing time, because I had somewhere to be at 5:30. For some reason, Vi takes this to mean I have a date. She asks me if I do, and I say, “Yeah. Hot date.” Because I’m SO TIRED of hearing about it. And she gets all excited, “You have a DATE?!” I hope she didn’t see me roll my eyes at her. But I said, “No, Vi. I do not have a date.”
Where I WAS going was to a little get-together prior to today’s Make-A-Wish event. They were just getting together people who’d had whatever to do with the event, and I was invited because I’d written that article. It was just a little finger food soiree and I was, honestly? A little apprehensive about it. I don’t do well in most social gatherings of that sort where I don’t know people that well. I was going to know people, but not well. The Make-A-Wish campaign coordinator, Dave, was going to be there, and the WNC regional director, Carolyn, was going to be there, and Rikki, the girl about whom I wrote the article, was going to be there, but other than that, I was going into this on my own. Another person from the paper was invited, but they weren’t able to make it due to prior commitments.
So I go, and it turns out to be AMAZING. Seriously? I have found people outside of work with whom I really connected. The Make-A-Wish people were amazing, and one woman in particular, Melanie, I talked to forever. We talked about all sorts of stuff, and I found myself actually telling her that I’m uncomfortable in settings like that, usually, because people often don’t take me seriously because of my age. She was just really, really cool. She told me throughout the conversation that she’d seen me across the porch, and she wanted to talk to me because she thought, “anyone who could rock pink tights had to be someone awesome.” (Told you the tights would come back. They’ll be back again, too.)
But I think I’ve found a new friend (outside of work!!) and I’m excited. I like my friends at work but, you know, you need some outside people, too.
I talked to Rikki for a while and really? It’s hard to believe she’s only 16. It’s kind of funny, because she’s got this elegance and poise about her that you don’t often see in people that age, but then she’ll say something that makes you go, “Wow. You’re so young.” She really is very cool, though.
I also found out that Carolyn wants to train me as a wish granter. Those are the people who actually meet with the kids that make the wishes and who make them happen. That? Kind of blew me away. I was expecting, you know, to help out with fundraisers or to do office stuff on the weekends, but no. For whatever reason, in the short time she’s known me, she’s decided that I’d be good at that. And I’m really excited about it. I’m excited about the entire thing, in case you haven’t noticed. I finally have something, as one of my friends put it, that’s “bigger than myself” with which to work. Because honestly? I can sit here and say, “Oh, poor me. I hate my job, I’m in debt up to my ears, and I can’t have the person I want the most,” but then you look at these kids having their wishes granted? And it’s a whole new ballgame. And I want to be a part of that.
Someone else I met last night was Teri, who works for Kawasaki, which was one of the sponsors of the event. She flew in from California for the event. Her mother lives here, so it wasn’t just randomly, “Oh, I’m going to go to WNC just for funsies,” but it was cool meeting her, too. She is the editor-in-chief of a motorcycle magazine and you know I’m always excited to meet people in the publishing industry. I mean, I liked her as a person, she was cool, but I knew I wanted to talk to her before I knew she was cool because she’s the EIC, and even though I know nothing about motorcycles, people in publishing are people in publishing. Believe me, y’all. I’ve got bigger things in my future than a hometown newspaper. I’m glad to be getting a start here, but I’ve got much, much bigger things coming my way one day. I really believe that.
After the get-together, I decided to go to a football game, since the stadium is literally a 5-minute walk from my house, and I flashed my press pass to get in. I love that. It was the home team’s homecoming, so, of course, they played a team they could beat. For whatever reason, I love football games. I texted Jason while I was there, since I haven’t talked to him since. . .well, I haven’t physically spoken to him since before I moved here, and that’ll be a year next month. The football game reminded me of him, since we did marching band together.
There was also this guy standing beside me who looked like every stereotypical hillbilly EVER and who kept spitting every 15 to 30 seconds. I’m assuming he was chewing tobacco. It was really hideous. So gross. If you’re going to have bad habits, which everyone does, at least you could have a bad habit that doesn’t involve saliva and spitting.
It turned out that my ex was there as well (I SWEAR, I’ll come up with a name for him one of these days. “My Ex” encompasses at least two other people, so I need something more characteristic.) Anyway, he gave me half a funnel cake, which was a welcome thing, since I hadn’t eaten, really eaten, since lunch. I’d had a little cup of wine and some cheese and crackers at the get-together, but I was really too keyed up to eat. And at the game, I was still really, really jazzed. I was so excited about everything. It was a wonderful feeling. Dennis was there shooting the game so I talked to him for a bit as well.
After I got home, approximately 10:30, I was too keyed up to even try to sleep, despite needing to get up at 6:45, so I went to Wal-Mart and called Ashley. I finally got to bed around 2. I’m still having really bad sleep problems, so I probably slept a total of 3 hours. The thing about the sleep issues is that I can function just fine on the little sleep I get for a couple of weeks, but then it all hits me at once, and I still can’t sleep, despite how exhausted I am. It’s frustrating that I continually have to take pills to help me sleep, but I’d rather that than being a bitch because I’m so tired and then, ultimately, crashing.
Since this entry is so long here (3 word document pages!), I’m going to cut the weekend in half, and I’ll get to today in the second entry.
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