Today I started training for my new job.

Training was kind of similar to being in high school all over again. Whenever they turned off the lights over head while we sat through a training video I started to doze off. I wasn’t particularly tired but I’ve accidentally trained myself to sleep when lighting is “darker” inside. Biting my lip and casually pinching myself was inevitable. I am outgoing and I participate, which is more than my thirty or forty year old peers. The black girls behind me would giggle as they noticed a pattern I was following, kind of like they new me. The day before I was excited (at least) about my new work cloths. For sure I was going to get sex out of this shirt. Not because the shirt defined me, I defined the shirt, still a damn good looking shirt.

I am going to hate my job answering telephones. Technically speaking, I should be really excited because I now am apart of the knowledge associated with cult classic “Office Space”. Movies just don’t mean as much today as they did when TCM was the all time high. The job is seasonal with the opportunity to become permanent with good results. I will probably be one of those people with good results.

Waiting for my mom to get out of school I sat my ass down all fancy and the like at the book store. I’ve been reading “The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo”. I’ve not sat down and read a book undisturbed in years. Books have bored me with their patterns in stories. Maybe I’m reading the wrong books. When I put the book down, leaving for priorities, I started to feel very alone. Is my life going to consist of reading at the book store after work every day? What a depressing thought. Then I do a pity check, there are plenty of people who put down a book and that emotion saps you. Like a misunderstood sentence, or action. Maybe even like dust settling on your laptop, despite you moving it around and taking the damn thing with you everywhere.

There are parts of this world that are so sad over nothing. If not nothing then the static of their lives. Talking to trashy girls has started to become a hobby of mine (though classy more often than trashy). I have always wondered why I can’t pick up the really classy girls and really trashy girls. Why shouldn’t I? If life is going to be stagnant I may as well see what happens here. “God”, now I really am apart of that sad place in the world.