Update 10/16/11: Edited this post slightly for typos and clarity; I added a few sentences too. My policy is to never delete or change my posts, even if I regret publishing them in hindsight (I would make an exception in the event of a true emergency).
Well, I had an interesting week (long periods of uselessness and anxiety punctuated with manic flourishes of activity). I have to say that being underemployed has done wonders for my housekeeping. I cleaned things that I never even thought about in the past, like the top back part of the fridge next to the wall, and the plastic container cases that hold my makeup. I also bleached and scoured the grout between the tiles in the bathroom. Usually I avoid doing that (scouring, I mean, not casual cleaning) because I get totally OCD about it and become very agitated when I can’t get the grout all the same color.
I landed a tutoring job teaching a <Ivy League School redacted> undergrad
jock student athlete about Niccolo Machiavelli and Thomas Hobbes. I am familiar with both, but I feel much more comfortable with Machiavelli, the first modern political scientist (among other things). Political theory was not my area of emphasis, but I took a few seminars. I had to brush up on Hobbes (WOW was that guy smart! Stop reading this blog and go get yourself some Hobbes right this minute) before I went in to the interview. The student isn’t hiring his tutor, his parents are, and they were there for the interview (the son sat between them, looking obviously and justifiably uncomfortable, as if he was at a parent-teacher conference in 4th grade). They had misgivings (obvious, but not vocalized in my presence, of course) about the fact that my credentials come from lowly PUBLIC UNIVERSITIES, but I got the job.
I have another interview lined up for tomorrow morning. A different job. Should be interesting. I’d write more about it now, but I am very tired, and I don’t think that I can do it justice.
For no reason that I can discern, I was inspired to (try) to build a playstand for Parrot with materials purchased from the $.99 Store. Did I mention that I have no experience with carpentry whatsoever (remember The Curtain Rod incident)? Oh, it was quite an adventure, let me tell you. I felt like Ogg the caveman trying to program a plasma TV, only my project involved lots of sharp power tools.
Fear not, gentle reader, I took many photos of the monstrosity after the glue dried overnight–a catologue of my incompetency, if you will. Like a Yugo GV, the playstand was both ugly and structurally unsound. I would not climb on it if I were a bird, even a little bird. So, I tore it down and now I’m starting again. Will document.
Then my COMPUTER BROKE–I think it has viruses–so I had to drop everything and run it into the shop. It took forever because I had to get it booted up and transfer tons of the data to an external hard drive. I’ve always kept multiple copies of my financial records and research/school stuff (in multiple locations across the country, including a safety deposit box at the bank), but there was still some stuff on that PC that I was scared to lose. Also, I didn’t want anyone else running across it, like Mr. Computer Fixit. Nothing illegal, of course, but sure to raise a few eyebrows.
So, I’m stuck with my crappy laptop for the next few days till I can pick up my PC.
On the way home, I got a call from the Surgeon. Maybe write more about it soon, when I’m not so tired. Suffice it to say that it didn’t end well. He turned on a dime, for no reason that I could see. I told him not to talk to me like that anymore and got off the phone quickly. But now I have this shit to deal with sometime over the next few days. Makes me tired just thinking about it.
One day, I want to tell him, one day I will leave you for a man that is capable of loving me.
I came home and baked gingerbread cookies. I put cream cheese icing on a few of them. I wrapped them up and put them in the fridge to bring to a meeting tomorrow. I did not eat a single one.
We are quite a pair, the Surgeon and me. A long time ago, as I sought to understand his behavior, I thought that he was afraid of emotional intimacy. I was wrong. I am the one afraid of emotional intimacy (which is why I’m with him). He deprives not because he is withholding, but because he has so little to give. He has nothing to withhold. And I deprive myself.
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