Let me describe my day for you.
I wake up. Spend two hours getting ready and getting to work. About 35 minutes is spent on my eyeliner. No matter what kind I use, I can’t cut that down.
Then I go to work. And for the past two weeks my days have been spent waiting for the next transition.
Waiting to go to work. Waiting to go to the next training class. Waiting to go to lunch. Waiting til the next training class again.
Then I spend about an hour after work still there using the Internet to do schoolwork. Clocked out, of course.
Then I spend about 30 – 45 minutes driving around in circles listening to music.
When I finally park my car and go inside my parents house, I spend an hour practicing piano.
I’ll make dinner.
Then I will work out until I feel like I am going to throw up.
I take sleep aid. Stand in the shower for 25 – 45 minutes listening to the water hit my head.
Then I lay in bed til I fall asleep.
The last few weeks I have felt like I am loitering in my own life.
Just standing with no purpose and no business being there.
And I’m sad.
And when I think about this, a few instances come into my mind.
I think about being in a restaurant with my parents and them getting in a fight.
I think about all the people who want to be loyal to me, but won’t.
I think about a dear friend who I’ve known and loved for 4 years and the last conversation we had and will ever have.
I think about my coworker who I barely know approached me today asking me to go to lunch with her when I didn’t even know if she liked me or not.
I think about the people I have met in the last two months who say they couldn’t handle work without me.
I think about my friend telling me I look defeated and realizing I probably am, but not sure who defeated me.
I think about people that I should probably be nicer to or probably should try to be their friend, but I just don’t see the return on investment.
But most of all I think about a conversation I had recently with a friend of my brother’s. We only talked about where we worked, but just talking brought up such memories and feelings of nostalgia.
I just wanted to say:
You remind me of listening to Mae when I was 14 years old and how happy and warm and safe it felt.
So, please keep texting me so I can bask in that feeling.
But you can’t really say that to people. Especially people who you haven’t interacted with in 7 years and didn’t really like you much when you did.
Plus, people don’t really do stuff like that, even if you ask. Comes off weird.
I don’t know.
I just feel like a ghost.
And the worst kind, one that everyone can see and really likes. But still it’s a ghost.
I’m here, but I’m not really here. I’m not sure why I am here or what I’m doing here.
I just am.