Wednesday, April 16, 2003

Rabbit Trap

Like a trapped rabbit

I haven’t written in over two weeks here, which is out of pattern for me. I haven’t wanted to write because I’ve been pretty unhappy these past two weeks.

Life is good. Wait, I take that back. Life is great. After the weekend in Augusta, Ron and Dinan came down and the next weekend we partied Atlanta style like I haven’t partied in 3 years. We started drinking in a lovely park out Druid Hills way, 3 in the afternoon. There was a picnic with Carly and her boyfriend Cos, and the five of us ate good fruit and bread and cheeses from the DeKalb farmer’s market. Two bottles of red wine started us off. I ate a good handful of chocolate-covered expresso beans afterward to keep my head clear, and then after we picked up Billy in midtown we went out drinking for real, for serious, for earnest. I had forgotten how much fun bars in and around Atlanta could be. I had forgotten that going out into the Atlanta night is better than going out at night anywhere else in the world. Atlanta kicks so much ass at night I can’t even write about it. And Ron and Dinan were down here to confirm that we’ll be roommates in June. In Atlanta. Soon, I get to have my own place in Atlanta.

Last weekend I got to go to my cousin Eleanor’s 2nd birthday party. There were only about five kids there, and 2 ponies. Everyone was flipped out about how cool the ponies were, and the party was just lovely – really low key, but kind of spectacular too. The sun was shining, and the ponies were pleasant. I spent some time catching caterpillars for Ruel and Colin. It was just one of generally agreeable family afternoons that don’t happen enough.

So I have plenty to be happy about.

But I spend a lot of time unhappy lately, because I really don’t like my job anymore. I love what I do; I just don’t like who I do it with anymore. My unhappiness with my job colors everything I do during the week. Next week I’ll be interviewing for another position that pays much less but that I think would make me happier. I can’t wait to leave this place. Pretty much what keeps me sane is my ability to pick up the telephone and call friends so I can defuse my temper. I have to keep working here until I have another job. I have to get my fabulous apartment. I have to, I have to. The urge to just walk out some days is just amazing. The worst thing about where I work is that I and one other person are so isolated from everyone else that I have no witnesses to the type of behavior that makes me so Unhappy. I’m stuck. I have to leave. I feel like a rabbit in a trap, and I’m getting TMJ from gritting my teeth so I won’t chew my own leg off.

And that’s why I haven’t been writing much lately.

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