11/17/97
I got on the train this morning. I went into my temp job. I went into my little designated office space, in the nine floors of Cuibicleland, called something with two names, one of those corporate affairs. I cried the whole way in. I cried in the bathroom while I was there and cried all the way back home after telling them I was sick, and if there’s nothing pressing, I need to go. They like me. I’m the best temp they ever had.
I’m beginning to understand the movie Leaving Las Vegas. Maybe I didn’t want to think about someone killing themselves. Maybe I didn’t want to think about someone who wanted no part of reality while they were doing it. I just seem to be chain smoking myself to death. At least I could be stoned. I could be drunk. So I choose to feel it? Is that it?
I’ve never felt so alone. I thought it would end. All these thoughts would go away when I left Scotland. So I burned that bridge. I thought all these voices in me would find a way to speak and be heard. So I went to college. Because I liked the idea of educated voices. And I was happy. For a time. Then I wasn’t. Myself came back and with it my depression. Rocking on the floor again in the dark in my room, my haven. The only place I feel truly welcome. So I turned around again, looking for a new experience. Leaving behind that which right now, doesn’t seem all that bad. Like I could go back. And I went in search of community. The one I left behind in the small town of Scotland, in a smaller town called Ashfield. Only this time I’d found creative people. People I might grow into and work with. People who might take me in forever, embracing me in all my moods and depressions and joys. And they almost did. Until I got scared. So I left the theatre. At the time I told myself I was looking for myself in my sister and in my father. What I’ve found is that I liked my life better without them. And now I’ve started and wouldn’t it be rude to cut it all off.
so it is already december. that infamous month of lonliness. not only am i lonely, i don’t have a job. not only do i not have a job, i have no money. not only do i not have any money, i have to pay for rent and my therapist. what am i doing? finding my voice? i can’t do that on my own time? with my writing with my singing? jody is staying on our couch again. sort of a drag. he spends half his time on my computer.
I have an interview on friday. a tutoring thing, for high school students. this should be interesting. i’m sure it’s just another job i won’t get, maybe this time i’ll actually be underqualified. how long can this go on? how long is it that i won’t be suitable for anything i try be it men or work?
thanksgiving. was truly amazing. i don’t know why i can’t seem to live off the glory of it. we had twenty people over, and had a blast. we got up wednesday morning to start the baking cooking process and started drinking soon after. taking out the recycling was a journey back to my college dorm after a party. except this time it was bottles of wine not cans of beer. and of course there was the obligatory make out session with some guy. rob’s friend from work. who actually, if i can refer to an even younger era, was a high school experience akin to 6 minutes in the closet. we had ours in the bathroom. making out with him i actually felt excited about things. wow the sex i’ve had. darren, who i met on the muni several times before