Daily Post 0185: Pre / Post Interview


This is what I wrote earlier today, but didn’t have a chance to post before having to pick up Zane.

I am sitting in a Chick-fil-a at the moment. Zane is at his interview. I’m sitting in a back booth, able to look out at everyone while my back is to a wall. It’s lunchtime, so there are several people, lots of noise, which I can’t hear through my headphones.

It’s as if I’m in a bubble. Observing the world while being apart from it. I like this. I wish it could go on for forever. No worries. None of my own. Simply watching the interactions of others. Some together. Others alone.

A couple, detached as they eat their lunch, not talking to each other. I think the girl is watching something on her phone. Another couple across from me. The girl is chatting. She looks more like a valley girl, someone I wouldn’t have much in common with. And that’s me stereotyping. Maybe she’s an awesome person, but she is wearing so much makeup that I wonder if she knows what she truly looks like underneath it all.

Do I know what I look like?

I think it would be the image of someone sick and fighting off infection. I look at myself in the mirror and I don’t appear different, but I know on the inside that I’m sick. I can see it in my eyes. I can see it in my mouth. I don’t normally smile, but there is something in the line of my lips. Something different, something that most likely only I see. It tells me of the battle inside. A mark of the conflict, and I can’t hide it. I can’t hide it anymore than I can change the tone in my voice when asked questions.

I can’t hide it anymore then I can hide the tiredness I feel. I haven’t been awake for all that long. I have showered. I have called about the storage unit, which is a whole story in itself, I have talked to my younger brother. I have gotten lost and then found. I have made sure Zane was on time.

I feel I have done so much, and so I sit here, listening to my music feeling like the only thing I want is to go back home and sleep, huddled under the covers, warm and safe. Peacefully oblivious in my unconsciousness.

Today, in this moment, I am better than I was last night. I feel braced. I’m waiting to pick up Zane and to see how he feels it went. Waiting. Waiting. Always waiting. Always hoping.

I wonder if that is something human, or if all animals hope. If I didn’t want things to be different I wouldn’t be in so much anguish right now. If I accepted where I am currently at and just kept moving forward rather than raging and straining against reality I think I would have an easier time of it.

But I don’t just go with it. I do rage and struggle and resist, and all of that energy is wasted when I could be doing something other than feeling depressed.

I don’t feel like I’m bleeding today. I feel like everything is bandaged up, taken care of, concealed.

I still have the grading to start. I thought about doing that while I sat here, but decided against it. Maybe that is irresponsible of me, but I enjoyed talking to my brother more than I would have enjoyed beginning the grading. I feel like writing more than I feel like staring at the same file I have stared at for three years, finding the same errors I warn about and mention need fixing.

I feel like being myself. An injured person going through emotional rehab.

I feel like telling everything to fuck off to be honest. I’m a snapping turtle and I’m not above biting off fingers if someone gets too close. I doubt I would actually do that. I may feel it on the inside, but on the outside I am always respectable, polite, diplomatic.

But in my head it’s an amusing image. It comforts me right now.

I will eventually do my work. I will eventually do what needs to be done. I will be responsible, and dependable, and unwavering. But not right now.

Right now I will continue to sit until I need to pick up Zane from the interview. Then we will go to lunch and celebrate the fact that he had an interview at all. We will sit more, for however long we want, talking about whatever we want.

Then we will go home where I will begin my work. Where I will end this illusion. Back to the routine, the day-to-day, the tasks and to-do lists. The drone. The machine. If only the lack of feelings came with it. Detached emotionlessness where I can function and preform my tasks as if nothing were wrong, instead of convincing myself that everything is wrong.

I did all of the reading for my class last night. I watched all of the videos. I have formulated my responses for the discussion post. I even looked at the main assignment for this week, so I have an idea of what I will be doing for that.

I survived last night. I’m surviving today. I’m proud of that. I feel like that is an accomplishment and that at the moment, that’s enough. More than enough. I’m a badass because I woke up today, because I’m still breathing. Anything else is just icing on the cake, and the Universe can be grateful for what it gets.

Currently I’m sitting in lab. Zane thinks the interview went well. I had an email from the mod job saying they want to talk to me about a position I might be interested in.

I got all of the grading done before work, but wasn’t able to go running at the gym like I was thinking about because my gym shorts haven’t been washed. I also took a two hour nap with Zane after we came home from lunch.

Overall I feel like today has been really low key. I’m hoping that lab isn’t too rough. So far they seem to be doing alright. I’m going to try getting caught up on my personal emails and the blogs I follow since I haven’t been doing that. I also want to try getting the podcasting for my discussion assignment done at the end of the night if I have it in me to do that.

That’s about all I have though. Just facts. We should know by Monday if Zane has the position.


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