This morning, I woke up, it about five-thirty in the morning, groggy, not really wanting to be awake, wanting to sleep more, but knowing that I had to get up to get ready for work. I tiptoed out of bed and into the kitchen, trying not to wake Magnum, our newly acquired puppy. Despite my attempts to quietly get to the kitchen, perhaps because of those attempts, he awoke, crying and whining from his crate. I was tired and wanted to worry about getting my own self together, awake, but instead was now having to try to quiet/comfort some dog, attempt to calm him down for just ten more minutes until I could take a shower and get dressed, so that I could take him out of his crate and out for a walk to piss and shit. I became enraged. It was probably about other things. I wanted to throw the dog down the stairs, was wondering if this might have been the worst decision, that now there would be ten years of no alone time, that I will continually have this animal needing things of me, needing me to take him outside early and late when I am tired and don't want to leave the house.
I worked with this twenty year old girl today. She is harmless and funny, but is also young and says things the way young people often say them, without thinking of how they might be received. She said something along the lines of, "I never realized you were so old." So old being thirty. She meant it as a compliment she was quick to say, but given that I have been thinking about how unproductive and unsuccessful I have been with my life these last few years, it wasn't too much of a compliment to have someone a decade younger than me who does the same job that I do tell me that I am so old. I really need a new job. She also, it should perhaps be mentioned here, called me a cougar due to the young age of my boyfriend.
My nerves were already short today because of waking up to a crying dog that I wanted to strangle. I had already been thinking about the stalled nature of my life a lot in the last few days, and so to be told these things really was about all I could take. I was afraid I was going to start to cry and made myself steady the wheel - held the smile tight, didn't let those lips tremble.
Tonight the temperature is supposed to drop to the high forties. It is nice and brisk outside, fall's perfume coming down the hall ahead of her, making you look in her direction. Everyone is at their lockers in the hall, putting books away, a break between classes, and she is coming down the hallway. The camera is in soft focus all of a sudden and the film speed slows down to show her in slow motion, hair being blown back, a new season striding forward, camera showing heads gawking her way, mouths agape, books falling from hands.
I keep hoping to win the lottery and keep on failing to get even one matching number. I have finally gotten around to watching Mad Men, just started the second season tonight, and do see what a fantastic television show it is, cannot get enough of Don Draper and his depression, his disenchantment with the world, and his very successful coping mechanisms for getting through it. It's such a fantastic show that deals with issues of gender and class in specific historical circumstances so great. The show is also probably what is bringing me down and making me think about my own life, my own failed attempts at it, my lack of attempts at living. That's a good thing, the show bringing me down. Sometimes you need a good kick in the pants, someone to tell you that they are sick of seeing your cutoff "Our Place" shirt that you have been wearing every single weekend.