My Mumbling Thoughts

My desk is packed away and yet there's still work piled on one corner. The mail. The mail will never go away. I've got timecard errors that I've yet to hand off to Jackie, and all of my personal stuff is sitting in a decent size box next to my feet.

It's so empty.

This week has been one of the best weeks I've ever spent at work, and that's mostly because I haven't been doing anything work related. It has been nothing but a big 'ole socializing party and damn, it feels so good. I've been hanging out a lot with coworkers and tomorrow should be a really funfilled day since I'll be having my farewell lunch and then a farewell happy hour right afterwards.

There's no sadness though. I will not allow sadness. I've had my fair share of sadness and if there's anything that I really want it would be to leave smiling and laughing, not crying and causing a scene. I never thought in a million years that I'd be saying this, but I'm really going to miss this place. Well, let me correct myself...I'll miss the people. All of the people, even the creepy ones.

Today we had Cathi's farewell lunch and that was a bag of laughs. There was cake, sandwiches and presents, oh my! Tomorrow is her official last day and then she'll start off into a new, exciting direction of her Work Life. She'll do awesome over there, I already know it. We're really going to miss her here, and I'm more than positive she'll miss us too. I could tell during her little speech that she gave at her lunch. It was sweet, cool and sincere all at the same time without sounding stupid and corny. Aside from thinking how nice it all sounded, I hoped that nobody would want me to give an impromptu speech at my lunch because I'm more than positive it wouldn't come out sounding half as good as Cathi's. Her's ruled. Mine would suck...and then everyone would pray for me because supposedly I'm good with words, and headed off to England to get a writing degree.

It doesn't feel like my last week of full time work and that worries me, because I want to feel that feeling. I'm still wired thinking that I'll come to work next week, do the timecard errors, sort the mail, hunt people down for signatures and meetings...I'll ask everyone how their weekend was, take my hundreds of smoke breaks, bitch about work with coworkers, escort uncleared people.

But I'm not. Next week we'll be in North Carolina, visiting family, getting stuffed full of Southern home cooking and hanging out during the last days of summer on Janice's front porch. That'll be the last of my relaxing time until we come back home and I'm running around like a mad woman trying to get things packed up and ready to leave for college.

Leave for college.

My mood has improved quite a bit though, after I gave myself a good talking to. I yelled and screamed and yanked my hair out in absolute frustration telling myself that I refused to be that sad, manic depressed girl for my last few weeks. I was going to grab life by the balls and have a fucking good time. No more pouting, no more crying, no more sadness. I better lock all of that far away in my brain and never unleash it until I'm somewhere alone where nobody can hear me through the walls. So I did. I smile now and the only time I cry is because I've been laughing too much which is how it's supposed to be.

All this week I've been coming into work late and staying extra late. After five o'clock, over half of the building has left for the day and I take my time roaming the hallways, sitting in people's empty offices, staring out the windows and saying my farewells to each different parts of the building. I remembered when I first came upstairs and thought that this place was an absolutely crazy maze. How did anyone ever find their way around?! All of the walking and random hallways. It had to be confusing for everyone. Now though, I can walk around and I have at least one memory on every last square inch of this floor. I know it backwards, forwards, inside and out. It was my domain and I owned it.

Tomorrow I'll take my box downstairs to my car, I'll double check to make sure that I left nothing behind and I'll say goodbye to the last thing that I've intentionally been putting off until the very end. My cube. My island. My corner of the building that I claimed and swore that I'd brighten up since I was bitter about what should have been my desk. And then there won't be anything left to say.

Posted by Sam at 05:49 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

Me: "Doesn't it ever get cloudy over here? I mean, seriously, does it have to be sunny every fucking day?"

Mel: "Damn, maybe it is a good thing that you're going over to England if you hate the sun that much."

Me: "It's not that I hate it. It's just that I'm over it. It has been almost a month of nothing but sunshine. Every now and then I could go for a cloudy day here or there. I like the rain. It comforts me."

Mel: "Okay, whatever you say. You're depressed."

Me: "Look, I'm not depressed. I'm just...I'm just...not as happy as usual. I can be cranky. I'm allowed to be cranky, alright?"

Mel: "Fine, whatever. You're cranky, I get it. Can you please keep your crankiness to yourself?"

**

It doesn't go away. This feeling that is so unknown and is eating my insides and working it's way out; it's always with me and never leaves me alone. It's here, right here, and if I'm not busy enough distracting myself, the eating inside speeds up and it makes me feel even more mental.

There are only two things that I have found that works, that makes me forget altogether that I even have this feeling.

The first is really simple. Company. Whenever I surround myself with coworkers, friends or family, I'm fine. We laugh and joke just like always and instantly I feel better. I can continue with my day and everything is fine.

The second thing is even more simple. Television. Oh yeah, if my coworkers, friends or family aren't around, then I can surround myself with fictional characters that I relate to and understand. This week I find myself frequently visiting the Seattle Grace Hospital off of Grey's Anatomy. Man, do I love that fucking show. Right now I have heavily immersed myself in the second season. I had never watched it until two weeks ago when Mel introduced me to the doctors. I'm not sure why I never watched it. I guess I thought it was stupid with all of the hype that was made about it and because it came on at ten o'clock and usually by that time I've already been asleep for two hours.

Mel has been downloading the second season onto Momma's laptop, and now whenever a new episode has completed, the two of us make ourselves comfortable on the big yellow chair in the "fancy living room" and watch it together with the laptop comfortably propped up on a pillow. It's our new Thing.

The thing that I love about Grey's Anatomy is that all of the problems aren't just medical (of course not, it's dramatic television). The interns have social problems, boy problems, family problems, Life Problems. It's not always about needles and surgeries. The interns are just starting out in the medical field where they overcome fears that they have and are forced to deal with hard decisions. I like it, I relate, I feel their pain. I cannot wait until the second season comes out on dvd and I can have a marathon for three days straight.

The show eventually ends though, the credits run across the screen and then I have to wait until the next show downloads, which takes a very long time.

During the space of time that I'm left with, I have found that cleaning and sleeping are nice distractions, but they don't keep my mind occupied. The second that I find myself alone with my mind running rampant, I'm confused as to what I need to do. Normally I would just think it all through and deal with my shit, but lately that hasn't been working. I've been a basket case full of emotions, not in my right mind, and the only sane thing that I feel like doing is sitting alone and crying until there are no more tears left.

I don't. I've already done the crying thing, and apparently one time is just not enough. I thought I had my Moment, my sad moment that I had been waiting for, the one moment when I would get it all out of my system and carry on until my last day here, but I was wrong. I don't think I got it all, that some of it is still hiding in there and now whenever I get the feeling that I might start crying, I plug it up and shove it aside. Just like I'm over sunshine, I'm over crying. I have nothing to cry about.

Which is where I'm wrong. I know I'm sad. I know I'm going to miss my home, my friends, family, car, food joints, daily routines, annoying neighbors, traffic jams and weekend errands. It turns out that I didn't completely hate this place like I thought, that maybe if I am bored and ready to move on, that I'm still sad about saying good-bye. I don't want to be all dramatic and make it seem like it's The End, but the truth is, part of me feels like it is. I'm leaving to go to a bigger city, where there are a lot more people, people I haven't met yet, been acquainted with yet, learned yet, understand yet. I'm going to create a new life somewhere else that isn't here, and I'm going to be fine. I know I'm going to be fine. Even with everything that is scurrying inside of me, I can feel the center of Fineness. But all of this, all of this that I have already created, that I'm already comfortable with, that I already know and understand, this is what I'm going to miss.

I'm trying really hard to accept everything, to mentally adjust and deal with the fact that from now on, at least until next summer, I'll only be visiting home every couple of months and that when I visit, I'll cherrish the short amount of time that I have with all of my fiends, family and food joints. I can feel myself being pushed out into Adulthood, and it's a frightening place. As cool as it might be to have your own place, set your own rules and only answer to yourself, I'm afraid to admit that maybe I don't want to do it. It's not about London, or college. It's about me, growing up. And that, that right there sucks.

When you become a teenager, you cannot wait until you grow up, move out and make your own life. That's what you want, you want that freedom and all of that space to do whatever you want to do. Obviously the first thing that you'll want to do is have a great big party that celebrates your newfound freedom. You'll call all of your friends, decide who's bringing the chips, who's bringing the liquor and life as you know it will have officially started. The thing we don't realize though, what nobody ever tells us, is that there is so much more to life than chips and liquor. I know, it's tough news, but it's true.

Now the moment has arrived, and instead of being a big 'ole grown up, I'm reverting back to childhood methods of curling up in bed, crossing my arms and pouting until I get what I want, which is...hmmm...which would be to live like Peter Pan and never grow up.

Posted by Sam at 08:21 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

And for once I'm not talking about myself.

This past week has been like an episode straight out of Dawson's Creek. It's your classic, girl has crush on boy, boy has crush on girl, but boy also has crush on a different girl and wants both girls to be happy with the fact that he wants to "hang out" with them both at the same time.

Heh. Yeah right.

Calm down, I'm not talking about me. No, no. With all of the mental shit that is going on up in my brain, I am far too fucked up to be dealing with any of my own boy troubles. Instead I am witnessing it from the sidelines and being excellent girl support for one of my good gal pals. Besides, it's a great distraction to be caught up in somebody else's drama instead of my own that I create in my made up world.

I can tell you the story, but since everything is still very much in the Thick Of Things, I have to use corny nicknames that my friend and I have come up with in order to keep things private. Don't laugh. We were both drunk and not exactly in the middle of one of our brightest moments.

First off, there's the guy, Lobster (have you never seen the Friends episode?). Then there's my friend, Bitch, and I only say it like Nicole Richie. It's more endearing and sweet, not rude and offensive. And last, there's Stick Girl, who we all hate because she's stupid and ugly.

Right, I'm sorry. That wasn't fair of me.

She's just ugly.

The entire situation in a semi-nutshell goes a little something like this...

Bitch has been married for almost eight years. She has been a stay at home mom (or as Dooce likes to say, Shit Ass Ho Motherfucker) for seven years and this is her first job outside of her house in a long time. Has she been happily married? For the most part, she admits that things were nice, but as time went on, things began to fall apart and now she no longer sees her husband the way she used to. She has cheated on him before, and she's more than positive he has been with somebody else as well. I'm not sure why they're still together, but that's not for me to say.

Lobster is a coworker. I never even knew that Lobster and Bitch were interested in each other, so when Bitch told me that the two of them had slept together, I was floored.

Me: "Shut up! Y'all did not have sex."

Bitch: "Yep, we sure did."

Me: "Damn, I had no idea."

Bitch: "Yeah, we're trying to keep things quiet, so don't tell anybody."

Me: "I won't, I won't. Don't worry."

Fast forward a couple of weeks, and things seem to be going well between Bitch and Lobster. They've got what appears to be a decent fuck buddy situation and nothing more. But of course, as we all know, there is more. There's always more and if there's anything that TV has taught us it's that there always will be more if only for the sake of good drama.

Cue, Stick Girl. She's a young blonde chick from Florida on a field package, which means that she'll be leaving soon. She is a perfect formula for a quick fling and then she'll be sent back home with no strings attached. I can see how some guys would be attracted to that, Lobster being one of them.

I like to say that Bitch is just like me in a lot of ways. I see our similarities and we find it uncanny how the two of us can easily finish each other's sentences. It's like we have unspoken conversations whenever the two of us talk and it's mostly just about facial expressions. On the exterior we're both seemingly very tough, independent chicks who don't take any shit off of anybody. We don't care who it is, we'll go down putting up a damn good fight, and no matter how much we say that we're fine or that we're doing well, secretly, deep down, there's a war of emotions battling inside of us.

So I knew right away that it was more than a simple fuck buddy situation for Bitch and Lobster. I could see her high school eyes batting their eye lashes at him whenever she'd see him in the hallways, and I heard how her voice changed and sounded a little softer whenever he would come around. I knew her feelings were more than just The Sex. She liked him, and from what she told me about their conversations, he liked her too.

If we fast forward a little more, then you stumble upon a very drunk night between Bitch and I. A couple of weekends ago, I drove high up into the mountains so that I could drink vodka and forget my first name. I succeeded. That is the night I learned that lasagne, vodka and beer are never good together.

I also learned that Lobster had gone out to a bar and made out with Stick Girl.

Yeah. There was a lot of dramatic shit to go through that night.

Now the triangle is official with Lobster slapped all over the middle. I'm over on the side watching from a safe distance and on either sides of Lobster is both Bitch and Stick Girl with their hands placed firmly on their hips impatiently waiting for Lobster's repsonse, which is an ultimatum. I hate ultimatums. No good ever comes out of them.

Bitch: "Listen to this bullshit, man! He fucking tells me that he wants a relationship with her. He wants a relationship with her. But! Wait, it gets better. If I leave my husband, then he'll be with me, because he really likes me. What kind of fucked up shit is that man?!"

Me: "Wait, where are you now? Where are you going?"

Bitch: "I'm in my truck going home. I just left the movie theater."

Me: "You didn't stay for the movie? What were you guys going to watch?"

Bitch: "So not the point man! Problems here!"

Me: "Oh right, sorry. Okay, let me get all of the facts straight so that I know what's going on. Y'all went to happy hour and she shows up."

Bitch: "Right."

Me: "He has been ignoring you for the most part of the night anyway, and after she shows up it only continues to get worse."

Bitch: "Yep."

Me: "After a while, Lobster's friends suggest that you guys go to a movie, and Stick Girl turns the offer down and says that she won't go because apparently 'Lobster is in very good hands' sounding all bitchified."

Bitch: "Uh huh."

Me: "And then Lobster tells you that you two need to talk where he then drops the ultimatum on you right before you walk into the theater, therefore ruining future moive experiences at least for the next three months."

Bitch: "Exactly, you got it."

Me: "Well, the answer seems simple to me...fuck him."

Bitch: "Really?"

Me: "Really. Honestly, Bitch, you don't need that. We both know that it's not like y'all are in a monogamous relationship so you don't have any kind of right over him, nor does he have one over you. To me it sounds like he's trying to have his cake and eat it too. You don't know what he has said to her, and the fact is, you might as well get out now before the shit hits the fan and everything gets even more messy than it already is."

Bitch: "I know, I know. It's just...it's just that I really liked him, you know? I haven't felt those kind of feelings in a long time and it was nice. I like it."

Me: "Of course you do. We all do. Say, since your close to my place, why don't you swing by, we'll smoke some cigarettes and you can get it out of your system. You can't go home with your mascara down to your chin and tell your husband that you're crying because of work shit. He may fall for a lot of things, but I don't think that that'll be one of them."

She agreed and I told her the directions on how to get to my house. She was only about ten minutes away, so when thirty had passed and she hadn't arrived yet, two things went through my mind.

1st: He called her, she turned around and was headed back to his place to talk.
2nd: She got into a car accident.

It was the first thing. A couple of minutes after those two thoughts went through my head, my cell phone started ringing and her name flashed across my screen.

Bitch: "It's okay, you can tell me that I'm an idiot, I know I am."

Me: "You're not an idiot, I just don't think that it's a good idea."

Bitch: "I know, but if I don't take care of this tonight, I won't get any sleep and I won't be able to look at him the rest of the time that we work together. I need to be able to go to work every day. I just hope I don't go all crazy psycho bitch on him. I'll call you as soon as I get some news."

Me: "Okay, but don't let him see you cry anymore. He doesn't deserve it."

Bitch: "I won't. I'll talk to you later."

Me: "Bye."

I still don't know any of the details because we haven't had a chance to properly talk today, but from the small fraction of the story that has been shared with me I know this...

Bitch doesn't want Lobster. Well, not really. What she wants is that emotional connection that the two of them have together. What she doesn't get at home, she finds it in Lobster and those sweet, sweet feelings that have been sleeping for all of those years are fully awake now and need lots of attention. I don't know Lobster very well, but I'm pretty sure that even if Bitch did decide to leave her husband for him, he wouldn't stick around for very long anyway. She has three kids, he has one of his own, and from what I've heard, he doesn't really spend that much time with the one he has anyway. To me he doesn't seem stable enough to deal with everything that Bitch has going on, which is why Stick Girl is so attractive to him. She's single, childless and won't be around our local area for very much longer anyway. He can have his fun without all of the dramatic consequences.

But of course he doesn't want to mess things up with Bitch. They had a nice fuck buddy situation going on until all of those pesky emotions got in the way. Now they're attached, words have been said, lines have been established and things are a little more complicated than before. It's not just, "let's meet after work for a quick fuck" anymore. It's "let's meet after work for a quick fuck, and then talk about where we're going, where is this leading to and 'I don't want to hurt you' conversations." Nobody enjoys that.

Quite frankly, if it were up to me and I was in Bitch's situation, I'd leave the dead beat husband, drop Lobster like he has a contagious disease and forget that Stick Girl even exists. Who cares that she has three kids to raise on her own and work a full time job that takes up fourteen hours of her life every day. Life is hard, shit gets tough and before she can even think about being happy with somebody else, she needs to learn how to be happy with herself. Once she learns how to walk on her own the rest will soon follow. And if Lobster really did care for her, he'd wait without any hesitation.

But again, I don't know shit and it's not my business. I just put my two cents in whenever she asks for it and the rest of the time I'm her support system. She has enough voices in her own head trying to shove their way to the front and talk her to death. Trust me, I know the feeling.

Posted by Sam at 07:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Wasting time at work
and wishing that I could lay
in a dark closet.

Posted by Sam at 04:34 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

I'm not a big fan of surprises, no matter what kind they are, good or bad. I like knowing way ahead in advance that way I can mentally prepare myself for whatever is around the bend. Being caught off guard shakes up my tiny little world and then I have to take the necessary amount of time off in order to bounce back from whatever it is that has just occured that I haven't thought of which is forcing me to change my plans, whether they be Life Plans or plans for lunch. I know there's no way for me to know EVERYTHING that will happen my entire life, but if I can be warned, even a little, then I feel better.

So when I found out this past Friday that Ms. Cathi was resigning and that next Thursday would be her last day at work, I was surprised. Shocked. Caught off guard.

I cried for two hours. Momma cried for three hours, AT THE OFFICE.

I know, a strange thing to do whenever an employee says that they want to leave, but if you knew Cathi, then you'd know that she's not your ordinary employee. She is, indeed, so much more.

Me: "But she can't leave! Why is she going? Who's going to help you with all of your work? Who's going to hang out in your office with you? Who's going to make sure that you eat lunch? Y'all had a really good thing going on. Why does she have to leave now? Can't she wait a little longer?

Momma: "Samantha, calm down. Everything is going to be fine. We'll make it without Cathi, trust me. I'm a big girl, I've been doing this for years. It'll just take some time to adjust. Don't worry."

Me: "But I don't want her to leave."

Even though it's extremely self-centered of me (remember, I'm an attention whore who complains whenever I'm the center of attention), I knew at the time that my tears weren't entirely for Cathi alone. Sure, I'm going to miss her, and I don't want her to go, but it's partially because of some other stuff which just so happened to be entwined with a whole bag of other stuff that tipped over slightly when I got the news about Cathi leaving us. Right, that makes plenty of sense.

Ever since I've been working with Momma I've sort of made myself her unofficial personal assistant. I make sure that she eats lunch every day, schedule her meetings, take care of the other team members who have unrelated Asset Questions, and do other small random tasks that she needs finished. To me, it's my small way of helping her out and relieving some of the unnecessary worries that she has to always deal with. Kind of like a, "thanks, Mom."

When Cathi came on board, she slid into her role effortlessly. She quickly caught on to everything that has been going on for the past three years and she also got us. She understood our wacky humor and clicked immediately with Momma. It didn't even seem like she was a coworker. She was family, plain and simple. I had never in all my life seen somebody work so well with Momma, and trust me when I say that it's a huge thing because Momma isn't one of the easiest people to get along with. She's very particular about her work and if you don't agree with her then essentially, you're wrong. They could make each other laugh, finished each other's sentences and were 100% completely on the same page.

With me leaving, I felt a lot better knowing that not only would Cathi be able to help Momma out with Work Stuff, but she would also make sure that she eats every day and could at least be a friend to talk to whenever she's having a rough day or needed to vent and vice versa. They were office buddies, war comrades and battled together while collecting matching scars.

After I heard that Cathi would be taking a new job that is two miles away from her house, get a 7% pay raise and doing things that she has been doing for over twenty years, I knew there was no way we could talk her into staying. It sounded like a perfect opportunity and she'd be stupid not take the job. She was really leaving, I needed to accept that. I knew we'd be keeping in touch and that Cathi wasn't leaving beacuse she hated us.

I also needed to accept that Momma is a full grown adult and she can take care of herself. She'll remember to eat when she's hungry and I can teach her about all of the different calendars so she can schedule her meetings. Just because I was leaving for school didn't mean that the world was going to stop and that everyone would fall into a great depression because I'm no longer around to spread the office cheer. The sun will still rise and time will continue to move forward. I just won't be here anymore.

Amy will be taking over Cathi's role and learning everything that she has been doing for the past couple of months. She'll move into Momma's office and sit in Cathi's desk. She'll take on all of the new responsibilities and also gain a bit of a pay raise, so it's good for Amy. I like Amy. I also know that she's a fast learner and will do a fantastic job working with Momma. It may take her a while to catch on to all of the different things that Cathi was doing (because, lord, there is so much), but it'll be fine. She already told me that she's more than happy to take care of Momma after I leave.

Me on the other hand, I've got to get my head out of my ass and stop being so dramatic about things. I'm leaving to go to college, not dying because I have cancer. I've been acting like I'm never returning when obviously I know that's not the case. If I would quit being so damned sad about every little thing, maybe I would actually have a good time and enjoy my last couple of weeks here instead of sulking because I won't have a Five Guys hamburger for a couple of months. If I'm not mistaken, I was the one who wanted to do all of this and I'm the one who has been working for two years to get where I am now. You would think that I'd be a little more thrilled about the circumstances instead of having little meltdowns every so often over the tiniest things.

Sometimes I'm so ass backwards that even I don't understand my ways.

Posted by Sam at 02:09 PM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)

It's a story that I've repeated to many people who have asked me the same multiple questions:

- "Why did you choose London?"
- "Are you excited?" which is closely followed by, "what are you studying?"
- "What will you miss the most?"
- "Will you be back?"

I politely tell them the same condensed answers that I've already told everyone else (and sometimes I repeat myself to the same person because apparently their memories are worse than mine).

- "Yeah, I'm excited. I chose London because when I visited two years ago for New Years, I fell in love with everything that was surrounding me. I'll be studying Creative Writing with English and of course I'll miss my family and friends. I should be back during the summer as an intern too."

They smile back at me, always smiling, wish me luck and make a stupid joke about randomly coming to visit me while I'm staying there, which I laugh at even though I've heard the same joke from thirty other people, so really, it's not that funny anymore. I still humor them anyway.

Afterwards, they stare at me for a couple more seconds. I can sense that they want more from me. They're expecting a lot more details, they would like to know about my New Year's trip, or perhaps they thought I would have a little more emotions about it all since it is a Big Deal.

I don't say anything though. I just stare blankly back at them and wait for them to walk away. After you've repeated yourself hundreds of times to tons of people, you lose your enthusiasm and your energy isn't as fresh as it was at the beginning.

Eventually they do walk off and I continue working on what it was that they interrupted me from.

The standard answers that I gave them though, the ones that I have memorized and can spout off at the drop of a hat in under twenty seconds, barely even begin to cover everything that I've been thinking about on the matter. There's so much more to all of their questions that I haven't ever shared simply because that would potentially lead into a longer conversation that I normally don't care to have with that one particular person.

But if I did care to answer them in full, my answers would probably be something like this:

- "Why did you choose London?"

Mostly I wanted to move there to study, not because I've always dreamed of attending college overseas, but because I just wanted to live there all the time and going back to school was the only way I could think of after we returned from The Great Vacation that was New Year's. It was the perfect and simplest plan that I could devise at the time. Also, because I tend to get ancy if I stay in one place for too long. When I was growing up, the only place that I lived for the longest was in North Carolina, and that's because Momma had retired from the military. I was so used to moving every two to three years, it just seemed natural to me. Regardless of what I say about hating Change and dealing with all of the struggles of adjusting to a new life in a new place, I thrive on it. Not only that, but I don't have to deal with all of those pesky extra curricular courses that I'm more than positive I would have failed. Math? Science? I don't have to worry about paying tons of money for things that don't interest me. I only focus on what I want to do, which is what I thought college was all about anyway.

- "Are you excited?"

Of course I'm fucking excited! Along with petrified, nervous and scared to name a few of the other emotions that have been swarming inside of me for the past couple of months. There's a lot of different things that I think of when I sit and wonder about the near future. I doubt myself way too often and even though I still think about backing out all together, I know I'm in far too deep for me to actually do it. It's like when I got my belly button ring, only on a much larger scale. I had wanted my belly button pierced ever since I was fourteen when I saw Trisha sporting her's next to her locker in the 9th grade. I thought that my belly button was already cute, but how much cuter would it be if I had a belly ring dangling from it? A whole lot cuter, that's how much. Three years later, I finally got it done, and even though I was scared and a little nervous (plus a lot drunk), I finally got it. I took one deep breath and by the time I had exhaled, it was all over with, completely painless. I still have my belly ring to this day and love it just as much as when I first got it. That's what I'm reminded of when I think about moving out and flailing about on my own. It might be a little strange, but it's true.

- "What will you miss the most?"

Alright, yes, I'll miss my family and friends. That's a given. And I'll also miss all of my regular food joints that I go to frequently. The one thing though that I'll miss the most is my first child who has put up with me every single day ever since my 16th birthday and has been with me throughout the good and the very bad times; my car.

God I'm going to fucking miss my car.

I remember the first day I bought her and how proud I was to be driving around in my pre-owned, fancy, 2001 Chevy Cavalier. I've been making the car payments, paying the insurance, keeping up with the oil changes and filling her up with gas for almost five years now. She houses all of my CDs, extra clothes, random shoes, trash, food and dead bugs. She has put up with me beating her up, calling her ugly and wishing that I had a new car. Even after all of my abuse though, and wondering why I keep up with the maintenence, I love her to pieces and could never give her away. When I think about all of the nights we've spent driving around aimlessly listening to music at dusk, or driving friends around to go from so many different places, I smile, because she has always been good to me. I've done my best thinking sitting in my car while stuck in traffic. I've slept in my car when I was too scared to go back home. Basically, I live out of my car and she is an extension of me. I'm not sure what I'm going to do now that she won't be with me. I'm sure that I'll cry when we share our last drive together.

- "Will you be back?"

No. I don't want to come back here and work. Maybe I'll be an intern for a summer or two, but as far as me coming back on full time, I'll have to pass on that. It's not that this job is horrible, it's just that it's not for me. The admin scene would be a lot more fun in my opinion if we had other admins around who were willing to work and didn't piss me off so much. Not only that, but I've already learned that I'm not built for the Corporate World. I don't have the energy, nor do I care to fight the same fights that others have been battling for eons. I would much rather go to a job that I like and spend most of the day working on something that interests me and makes me happy, rather than complain with other coworkers about This Problem or That Problem and feel like I'm wandering around aimlessly constantly staring at the clock wishing that it was time for me to leave. Call me crazy, but I think if you go some place that you actually like and want to be, you'll be a whole lot more productive with your time. I know, it's an insane thought, but I'm going to give it a whirl after I'm finished with college instead of sitting in the same place every single day forcing myself to not overdose on expired food from the vending machines.

Those would be my answers to them if I felt like sharing.

**

With only eleven more working days on the calendar, obviously my thoughts are only consumed with leaving. Every day I'm more aware of the time I have. Well, lack of time. It's nothing but circles and re-tracing the same things over and over. I'm irritating myself. I just want to wake up, pack my shit and get the show on the road. I chew on my nails, pick at the skin around my fingers and have noticed that my cigarettes are disappearing a lot faster. I'm tired of switching every day from, "I'm excited and can't wait to leave!" to "fuck this shit, I just want to live at home for the rest of my life." I want to stop writing about the same topic over and over. I want to start writing about the new people I'm going to meet, what my dorm room looks like, how the food is, my classes, all of the different sites, what I'm thinking and feeling. That's what I'm ready to write about. That's what I want to do. That's what I want to experience.

It's what I need. Because sitting here so close on the edge of The End and The Beginning is slowly killing me and driving me nuts.

Somebody please throw a cold bucket of water on my head now.

Posted by Sam at 04:30 PM | Permalink | Comments (4) | TrackBacks (0)

I decided since my sleep pattern is pretty much fucked, that I would train myself to get on a new sleeping schedule. One that doesn't have me tossing and turning during the wee hours of the morning and cursing at myself until I want to cry, because damn, sometimes I can be really harsh.

Instead of me passing out around 4 or 5pm when I was picking Mel up from work, I've decided to stay a couple of hours later so I can miss most of the traffic and spend that time collecting an extra hour or two of overtime. My banking account would really appreciate the added dollars here and there. Since I'm staying later though, I've also been going in later too, arriving at 9am instead of the painful 6 or 7am that I was used to. It's nice, I'll admit. Now I can take my time in the mornings, I'm not so rushed putting my make-up on, things are a lot more relaxed. Not only that, the extra sleep has been a great bonus.

The change has been one for the positive. I've noticed that I'm not as sluggish when I go to work, I complain a lot less and the majority of my work gets done after everyone has headed out for the congested highways around 4pm. I'm kind of pissed that I didn't think of this a long time ago.

Anyway, now when I come home, before I even think about crashing in my glorious bed with the inviting pillows, I force myself to stay awake, unwind a little bit, open my mail, pay bills, clean the kitchen, hang out with the family a bit. Who would have thought that you can function on six hours of sleep? Not me.

Now that I feel better about my sleeping situation, I've been getting a couple of things wrapped up and ready for when I depart for college. Yesterday I went to the doctor and the dentist. I figured that I might as well get everything checked out on the same day while I was out. There's no point in taking two sick days off of work. I also received my student visa in the mail which was pretty exciting. That was the last thing that I was waiting for so now I've got all of my required documents to show the people at the airport that hey! I'm legal and have the papers to prove it.

This afternoon while I was going through some of my mail, I saw a big white envelope with my name on it and the Roehampton seal. I always get a happy shiver up my spine whenever I see something from them. I make myself comfortable on the couch or chair which I am sitting in, carefully open the envelope as if something may jump out and bit me, and slowly go through each and every paper that they have sent, front and back. Today wasn't any different and I was extra happy to see that it was a big Welcome Folder that came stuffed with a calendar of all the general holidays and College Events that will be going on throughout the year, my very first University Newspaper, more financial aid advice and a Fresher's Guide for us first timers.

It talked about our first week after we arrive, setting up our modules, student IDs and so many more things that I'll need to do upon my arrival.

And I thought all of the stuff that I did to actually get accepted was a lot of work!

I'm going to be so busy. So. Busy. Forget the fact that I'll be adjusting to a whole new environment, dealing with the culture shock, trying to not get lost, set up my room, learn everyone's names and properly settle in. Oh no. They're just going to be sending us all off to different places to have more pictures taken for IDs, organizing modules, going to a subject briefing where staff members get to go on for at least an HOUR AND A HALF about what subject they teach, what it involves, and how you should be apart of it, because hot damn is it ever awesome! I have to arrange my fee payment (durr), go on the campus tours, attend the International Centre Open House and then finally start lectures on the 25th of September.

They also have a Fresher's Ball, a treasure hunt of London (I really want to do that; no, really), film screenings, poetry readings, Cinema Night for all students, our Student Unions daytime and evening events (anyone up for some jazz?), and many, many, many other tours. I'll tour all of the different halls, the library, the computer labs which are open 24/7 (doesn't matter, I've got Bridget), and the Learning Resource Center (LRC).

After I read everything, twice, I was still slightly overwhelmed. I mean, that's a lot of shit to be dealing with for the first week directly after my arrival. We also have to take into account that I haven't been in school for a couple of years and this will be my first year in college. Like, really in college. Don't I get any time to rest a bit after I get there? Will I have time to take a deep breath, adjust my body clock to the time change or unpack? It already seems so hectic and I haven't even left yet.

But then I read my little University Newspaper called "Fresh" and was comforted by the pictures of fellow students that I saw and read an article by a guy named, Joe, who talked about the craziness and feeling so overwhelmed and dizzy from his first week that things seemed do-able. Sure, it'd be insane and I could have a random breakdown during one of the tours and forever be known as the Girl Who Cried After 48 Hours Of Being On Campus, but it would all be okay. I'd fall into a groove, I'd learn over time where things are, and if all else fails, I know that there will be tons of different people around who will be more than willing to help me out. I've always felt like Roehampton really tries and cares about their students, no matter what crazy ass questions they ask (I'm one of those students who has asked those questions multiple times). Heidi and Val (the beautiful Roehampton Representatives that I've been talking to for months) have always been there for me and I don't feel like a pain. It doesn't matter what I do, say or ask, they always make me feel special.

Even still though, I've got to have time to set up my room and unpack. It's vital for my mental state. I can't just go out on tours and listen to poets read their work while I know that there are clothes that need to be hung and drawers that need to be organized. It will drive me insane.

Posted by Sam at 09:29 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

This Friday started off really slowly, but it was totally worth it because this afternoon rocked. ROCKED.

After I finished up my work, I hung out around the office so I could kill some time and let the Friday traffic die off. It turns out that work is a lot more fun when you're not on the clock and can waste away the afternoon with fellow coworkers. We talked, ate crap food out of the vending machines, tossed a little soccer ball to each other, smoked, talked shit about people, and then decided that it was late enough to where traffic might be tolerable.

It didn't matter though because the weather was GORGEOUS and I think that Mother Nature has decided to loosen her grasp a little bit on us poor folks down here who have been turning into people soup. Today, however, a lot of people were brave enough to roll their windows down and let the wind blow through their hair. I don't care what anyone says, I'll drive with my windows rolled down any day of the week instead of sitting with the air conditioner blasting. There's just something completely different about driving your car with the music as loud as the car will allow and letting your hand drape over the side of the window while smoking and singing along to whatever is tearing up your speakers. You can't do that with the a/c cranked on, I'm sorry. You just can't.

When I got home, I was pleasantly surprised to see not one, not two, but three whole College Presents resting in my bed. Mel bought me a beautiful purse from Coach. Oh yeah, plus the matching wallet. I really need to learn how to upload pictures on here (tips, anyone?) so I can show it off. It's so pretty. And so perfect. It also smells great. I'm totally carrying this around until I die.

But! The third present was the most surprising (I already knew Mel was going to get me the perfect pocketbook). It was a CD from Melissa congratulating me on getting into college. Thank you, Melissa! She sent a sweet message with a compilation of her favorite British bands. Really, I was completely surprised. Not only that, but I was just thinking this past week how I wanted to make some more CDs and send it out to more bloggers (the offer still stands if you want a CD; just let me know). She has some kick ass songs on here and I was really excited to see "West End Girls" by the Pet Shop Boys on there, because I've had that song stuck in my head for a couple of months now. Oh yeah, I said months. Depeche Mode, The Cure, The Libertines, The Smiths and other wonderful artists that I'm in love with and would willingly give up my left leg for without thinking twice.

So again, thanks a million, Melissa. It's fabulous. And no worries, I definitely will not be disappearing from the blogosphere after I move across the pond. It'll take a lot more than that to get rid of me. Ha! You should plan a trip over to London sometime and we'll create havoc in all the pubs. It'll be great.

Ahhh...such a good Friday. Not only that, tomorrow is going to be spent relaxing at Amy's house, drinking liquor, hanging out by the pool and soaking up the 75 degree weather that is planning to wash around our skin. Seriously, could life get any better?

Posted by Sam at 07:04 PM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)

This is exactly what you want to hear about the morning after you buy your plane ticket to go to London.

Great. This is just perfect.

Posted by Sam at 08:44 AM | Permalink | Comments (6) | TrackBacks (0)

I am proud to say that I am one of those people who can fall asleep anywhere, anytime. I've been known to drift off in the mornings while standing in front of my sink and brushing my teeth. I can sit in my cube, shut my eyes and easily catch a twenty minute nap. So why am I all of a sudden having problems with getting my much needed beauty rest?

It has been at least two weeks now that I've been having issues falling asleep at night. My sleep pattern has been completely shot to hell and now during the night I spend my time laying in bed flopping around like a fish out of water.

Flip. Flop. Flip. Flop.

My toes scrunch up just so that they can have something to do and as the time ticks forward I become increasingly frustrated that I won't just fall asleep.

It starts out with me talking calmly to myself so I can try and relax.

"Fall asleep. Just fall asleep. Close your eyes, let the thoughts clear out of your head, take a deep breath and slowly start drifting to sleep."

After an hour of that, it then turns into verbal self abuse.

"Goddammit, how fucking hard is it to just shut your fucking mind off and catch some damn z's?! Jesus, I want to at least get three hours of sleep before the fucking alarm goes off!"

What I can't seem to firmly get a hold of is my own brain. It's always turned on and running around in so many circles that my head feels swollen from not properly stretching beforehand. I go over the same lists thousands of times only to end up in the exact same place where I started.

I've just chalked it all up to nerves and being impatient. One of the many topics that crosses my mind during this routine dance with myself is I'm waiting for That Moment. You know, the moment when I'll have one of those big meltdowns with lots of tears and screaming to anyone who will listen that I really don't want to leave. I was just kidding. Can we go out for ice-cream now? I already did what I wanted to do. I was accepted into college, I got the money, I have all of the legal papers. I didn't think that it'd all actually work out and that I'd really be going through all of this.

But it did. And I am.

I'm so used to having a big dramatic meltdown when Major Life Changes occur so the fact that I haven't had one yet is really freaking me out. It probably hasn't happened because I'm seeking it out, but I don't want to be caught off guard and then be escorted out of the airport because I can't control myself. That would be embarrassing.

Instead of a big, dramatic scene, I get these little pangs every so often that make my chest tighten and I have to catch my breath in order to not fall over. It used to be whenever I'd see an airplane in the sky I'd feel sad because oh how I wished to be with the other passengers going wherever they were going. I just wanted to leave. Now whenever I see a plane I become full of anxiety and have to find something, anything to lean on. I know what's headed in my direction and now it's no longer wishful thinking. It's a reality. I will be getting on one. I will be with other passengers. I will be going alone.

Which is another thing that I've been trying to get used to. I'm going to be leaving all by myself. Alone. No one else. Before I went with Mendy and she was my support when I began to lose it when we were being driven to the other side of the airport where our gate was. My eyes started to fill up with tears and I was going crazy.

Me: "I change my mind, Mendy. Let's not go. I don't want to. Can we turn around? How the fuck do I get off this thing?"

I remembered she grabbed my collar, made me look her in the eyes and shook some damn sense into me.

Mendy: "Sam. We can't go back. We've already paid for everything. Pull yourself together."

And when we were finally sitting side-by-side in our seats, as the plane took off we squeezed each other's hands so tight, leaned as far back as we could in our chairs and braced ourselves for the adventure.

This time around I'll be flying solo.

Can't I go with someone? Can't someone be there with me? Doesn't anyone want to come with me? I hear that airplanes have a lot of space these days and it won't be so cramped. We can play those travel games where the pieces are magnetic and stick to the board so they won't roll off anywhere. And when we finally make it over to London we can hang out like bosom buddies and come up with a schedule for when we each get to use the shower in the mornings. It'll be fun!

So there are a lot of worries, a lot of thoughts and not enough sleep. After I give up getting any sleep for that one night, I mark another day off the calendar and watch as the lightning flashes in the summer sky. I'm reminded of being on a rollercoaster when it's slowly climbing up higher and higher. I can hear the chains under me. They sound rusty and like they're struggling with all of the weight that its being forced to carry to the top. I keep on taking deep breaths, knowing what's about to happen, knowing that I willingly got on this ride, knowing that I'll soon be speeding towards the ground and knowing that every ride is the same. It always starts off slow in the beginning, but once you finally get going it's fun as hell and you end up waiting in line to ride all over again.

Posted by Sam at 09:25 AM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

I am so fucked.

I am So. Fucked.

I guess I should explain why.

I never thought that I'd ever say this but...*takes deep breath*...I think I have too many clothes.

Yesterday I went shopping since all of Northern Virginia was having their annual No Sales Tax Weekend for all of the chaps who are preparing to go back to school in a matter of a few short weeks. Parents pack all of their children into their mini vans to buy paper, folders and Crayola products in bulk. For once we don't have to do math and add 5% sales tax onto the final price that's printed on the price tag. What we see is what we get!

Needless to say I was pretty stoked. No math and no sales tax. I always look forward to this time of year. It's like Christmas only I'm buying things for myself. Well, I guess I could buy for other people, but I don't know anyone else who will be going back to school.

Anyway, that's not the point. The point is that I got shopping fever and was blinded by my own selfish wants and needs. I went a little crazy and bought a lot. When I say "a lot" I think you should envision the Grand Canyon. Now think of the Grand Canyon filled with nothing but clothes from Banana Republic Petites, American Eagle and Target. Think shoes, shirts, pocketbooks, pants, skirts, dresses underwear, luggage accessories, paper and keychains. It's all brand new and scattered randomly throughout my room.

Last night I was really excited, because nothing excites me more than buying new things, coming home and having one of my little runway shows. But after I was done playing dress up and lining all of my shiny new things on my bed, it finally hit me that I won't have any room in any of my suitcases to bring any of this stuff with me.

I WON'T HAVE ANY SPACE.

Why? Because I already had clothes that I was planning on bringing with me. I've got shoes, pocketbooks, pants, shirts, underwear, skirts, dresses and everything else that I'll ever need for all four seasons for the rest of eternity. I've got it all. I have enough. Now I've just added a bigger pile to add onto the already massive pile that is already bursting at the seams.

I remember a couple of weeks ago when I recieved one of my university packets in the mail with helpful tips for when I would be traveling and a nice little checklist that came with it. One of the suggestions was that I should only bring what I need and that two luggages should be enough. Nobody wants to be carting around four or five giant suitcases around the airport.

At first I thought it was a joke. How is someone supposed to only bring two suitcases with them to college? Seriously. With all of the mental packing that I've been doing I had squeezed everything into four, and that's not including my carry on bag plus my pocketbook.

For months I've been thinking about what I absolutely need to bring with me, what I could bring if I had some extra space and everything else that I can live without and leave behind. It's so hard to choose though and part with bits and pieces of my life that I've always had. How can I leave any of my books and dvds? What about all of my pictures on the wall and other random quirky things that I have around my room that I don't necessarily use but keep anyway for sentimental reasons. I'm going to miss my Hello Kitty toys that I got from McDonald's when they were selling them in the happy meals and my beloved shot glass collection that is still growing. These are things that I've already decided to leave behind simply because I don't think I'll really need them (well, I am bringing at least one or two shot glasses with me).

As hard as it is for me to part with my magazines and beanie babies, the hardest things for me to go through are all of my clothes. I love them all and can't bear leaving them all behind. It reminds me of a Sex and the City episode when Aidan is moving in with Carrie and he suggests to clean out her closet so that they can make some more room for his stuff. He mentioned that he doesn't know why she keeps all of those clothes because she hasn't ever worn any of them.

"Yet," she points out. "I haven't worn any of them yet. Someday I will."

That's exactly how I am. I've got a lot of clothes that are hanging in my closet that I've yet to wear, but I never know if an occasion will come up and I'll be so happy that I have my white Ann Taylor halter dress that is practically brand new and still doesn't have any matching shoes to go with it. It would be perfect for a nice spring garden party. So what if I don't know anyone who has a lawn with chemically treated grass, or an actual garden. The point is that it might happen and if it does then I'm fully prepared.

That is how I shop. I go out, I see something that I want and then I picture myself wearing it either with something that I need to buy or something that I already have. It's just like my new rain jacket that I bought from Banana Republic. Let's not even take into consideration that I've already got two perfectly fine rain jackets in my posession, but this particular jacket that I saw and tried on was absolutely perfect for me. And on me for that matter. I looked stunning and I would look even more stunning wearing it with my new fancy jeans, my hot brown knee high boots, while standing in the rain in London.

Why am I standing in the rain in London? Who knows. I could be window shopping, I could be waiting for someone, I could just be out for a walk because it's fucking London and I will be doing a lot of walking. Whatever the reason, I'm going to be wearing this beautiful rain jacket so it was pretty obvious that I needed to buy it.

Right now I'm scared. I'm scared that I want to bring too many things with me and I'm going to end up being the Perfect Example as to why you should only pack two luggages when you go to college. I'll be the one who gets pulled onto the luggage conveyor belt because my bags are too heavy. Round and round I'll go and then I'll really be reconsidering whether or not I should have packed so many pairs of jeans or if I really needed all of those damn t-shirts.

One of the ways around struggling with four suitcases is simply shipping over the stuff that won't fit. I should only bring what I'll need for at least the first two weeks and eventually the rest of my belongings will arrive via the post. The only thing that I don't like about that idea is what if something gets lost or breaks? Or worse, what if that one situation that I have yet to think about suddenly pops up and I am left unprepared because the one thing that I need is securely taped in a brown U-haul box? What will I do then, huh? How am I supposed to cope?!

I know, I probably sound crazy. I should just chill out and come up with a new plan. I need to be more strict when it comes to my lists and not worry about any potential scenarios that may or may not come up. It's just college after all. Most of the time I'll probably roll out of bed and wander into class with an old pullover sweater and jammy pants. There's no need to panic and I'll just have to keep repeating to myself that I don't need all twelve of my fancy dinner dresses.

Posted by Sam at 08:58 PM | Permalink | Comments (4) | TrackBacks (0)

Alright, go ahead and burn a bright scarlet A upon my chest and throw trash at me as I walk the streets. I've got a new man interest that comes with a tiny bit of drama. Tiny. Small blip. Hardly noticeable. Some people may disagree or think differently from me, but that's okay. That's one of the benefits of having your own opinion.

A couple of people that I've talked to about him tell me that yeah, it's kind of fucked up.

"You want to date one of his friends? Isn't that one of the rules that you don't break after you call it quits? Don't date one of their friends."

"Well, we were friends before Ash and I broke up and I didn't want to quit talking to him just because we were no longer together. That didn't seem fair. Besides, it's not like I planned for any of this to happen. It has kind of just evolved over the past couple of months. It's not like they're even best-best friends these days. They hardly talk. They're former friends."

"You can rationalize it all as much as you want, girl. It's still fucked up."

And perhaps it is. Perhaps I'm a terrible person because I like a guy who just so happens to be one of my ex-boyfriend's friends (former friends, remember?). Maybe there's something wrong with me or I have a little switch in my brain that can't quite make the connection. Who knows. It just doesn't seem to be that big of a deal to me. I know if the situation was reversed, I wouldn't be pissed at Ash. So long as he was really happy, then I would be happy for him. Well, maybe I'd be a little pissed at first, but over time I know I'd learn to accept it. I've never had any malicious feelings towards Ash, and have only wanted him to be truly happy no matter what.

Now I don't think about it that much. Okay, to be honest, I don't think about it at all. I used to, but Jon is his own person so there's no need to make any kind of attachment with the two. I don't see any point in it and find it to be a complete waste of time to compare people to one another.

So I don't.

Aside from the one teeny, tiny stipulation, things are great. He's funny, he's smart and he's cute. Sure, we haven't properly met face-to-face...yet.

Alright, maybe there's two stipulations.

The thing is, I'm not really sure what to classify us as. We're friends, but we like each other. Let me break it down to you in high school terms. We don't just "like" each other. We like-like each other. I have adopted a term that describes what we have perfectly; potential. I don't want to say anything else or think of it any other way right now that could jeopardize what we already have, which is a fabulous friendship. It's a - We'll Have To Wait And See What Happens - kind of thing.

I know what you're thinking, trust me. I've thought the exact same things. You think this is just a rebound relationship or perhaps I'm diving head first into something too big too soon. I'm just looking to replace something that I've lost and shouldn't I enjoy being single for a while? And maybe you're right. They're all very valid points which I have spent a long time pondering. I figure that I'm aware of it though and I'm not going to re-trace the same footsteps that I made with Ash or any other previous boyfriends in the past. I may have been with Ash for two years, but we weren't exactly together all the time. I've been doing the single thing for a long time now and the word is in: I want to be the other half of a couple. I like it. I miss it.

So it seems like we're in a holding period. The most we can do at the moment is talk, and if the reality lives up to his words, then I see things being very good. The only thing I don't like is the constant wondering and "what ifs". You know, he says he can cook, but can he? He claims he'll go dancing out in public, but will he? It all seems very anti-climactic and sets me a little on edge. Anybody can say anything, it's all a matter of doing it when the time arrives.

For the time being I'll be dancing around on my tippy-toes and treading water lightly. It's something that's very hard for me to do since I am so damn impatient, and I've been forcing myself to not go overboard and place extreme amounts of pressure and expectations on everything. I have to constantly tell my brain to stop thinking, no more wandering, day dreaming over, and focus my attention elsewhere. I think it's a good thing for me to learn though.

This would be me Going With The Flow, I guess. We'll see. There's a lot of potential for things to come here in the very near future.

Posted by Sam at 02:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (4) | TrackBacks (0)

Since I'm getting ready to exit the Corporate Life and get back into the Education Mode, I thought I would share some vaulable tricks of the trade that I picked up throughout my years in different office buildings. Let's face it, sometimes you have a stack of work sitting on your desk that needs to get done, but you're simply not in the mood to put on your working cap and get it all finished. Sometimes you just want to kill time until it's time to leave for the rest of the day. Don't deny it. You know you have. You just got back from a long lunch and your body is begging for sleep. You curse yourself for ordering that large side of fries with your turkey club sandwich and now all you want to do is curl up under your desk and take a cat nap.

Since most of us would get fired if we were caught doing that, these are my top three things I've chosen as alternate ways to waste time, yet still look productive at the same time.

**

1. Power walking

This is what I do whenever I'm about to rest my forehead on my computer screen and catch a few z's. I get up and walk anywhere, but I do it like I've got some place really important to be. Normally it's just to go to the bathroom, downstairs to smoke, or to the vending machines to grab some sugar, but I get a look on my face that says, "do not talk to me, I'm very important and have very important places to be." Also, you must come up with a quick response that you say to everyone in the hallways when they say hi to you. My answer to everyone who asks how I'm doing is "pretty good." It's fast and keeps you walking that way nobody stops you to chat and slow you down. The last thing you want is for someone to give you more work while you're walking with a mission.

2. Little of this, little of that

You don't have to know the ins and outs of everything at the business you work for, but what I like to do is know a little bit of everything that way you can always add your two cents in a conversation. Whenever I feel like killing time, there's nothing better than distracting someone else from their work with a little shop talk.

For example, at the company I work at, we have a lot of standard departments. There's Procurement, Finance, Security, Change Management and so forth. I don't have the slightest clue how any of these departments function, but I know enough to get by and not make myself look like a total ass whenever talking about their work. Now, let's say I'm in the mood to go and distract someone from work so I can waste some time. All I do is walk into someone's office, tell them that I have a question about something that deals with their work and then I let them ramble on for a good hour or so until I'm ready to go sit back down at my desk and check to see if I have any new emails. It's brilliant. You wouldn't believe how many people love talking about themselves and what they do. Not only that, but if you work for a company that's really shitty, they also love complaining and droning on about how they think they could fix a certain problem.

Now, occasionally I listen to them and add my small share to the conversation, but for the most part it's just them going on and on about what they do. I like to call them "impromptu meetings".

3. Obvious hiding places

In my opinion, I think everyone should have a safe haven for whenever they need some quiet time. I know I don't like sitting where there's constant talking and phones are ringing off the hook all day, so I've found some obvious hiding places where I can sit in silence but still have a good reason to not be at my desk or running another errand for someone. I figure that they should be in the wide open too, that way nobody can ever say that you were trying to sneak off and be a slacker.

My first option is always a conference room. I have access to view all of the schedules for each room since I'm admin, but if you don't have that option, find someone who does have access and block off an hour or two for "Project Reviews." It's vague enough to where people don't really know what it's about, but detailed enough to where people don't ask questions. If they want more information, just say that it's late notice and you just need the room. This is where I can sprawl out my papers and get down to real business, which is of course, writing up drafts for new posts on my blog. I'll bring a couple of timecard errors with me or work lists in case someone walks in, but this is where I can get myself organized in a nice quiet space without everyone looking over my shoulder.

If the conference room doesn't work for you, then I always go to one of the kitchens, our employee lounge or someone's office who has left for the day. If someone asks what you're doing in the office, just tell them that you had to ask the person who has left a question and that you're waiting for them to return. It works like a charm.

**

Those are just my top three. Of course there are others that I have perfected over time, but these are my first choices whenever I'm in my Slacker Mode. If you work somewhere that's dull and makes you want to jump off the roof without a parachute, I hope you can use these methods and save a little of your sanity.

Posted by Sam at 01:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)

My mind is foggy and I've been wandering around the building as if I have been lost out in the desert for days without water. I might as well be foaming at the mouth, stripping naked and running out in the horizon screaming, "It's the beach! I see the beach!"

Yeah, so I haven't been feeling well these past couple of days. I think it has something to do with the heat and my sinuses. I try my best not to take any kind of medicine if I can help it, thinking that my body is all powerful and can fight off any infection, virus or disease without any problems. If I can attack it with plenty of fluids and fruit, then I consider myself good to go.

The bad news is that my body isn't all powerful (damn) and sometimes I have to break down and take a pill or two to coax my white blood cells into high gear and get their asses moving. The second bad news is that once I do take that pill or two that will be doing the coaxing, I am so pathetic and my tolerance is so low to any kind of medication, that the side effects hit me like a mack truck and I'm still left wandering around looking insane and asking people if they've seen my pet goldfish.

The heat is killing me. I've given up all hope of dressing up anymore to come into work. Screw it if we have an important customer or not. If they have a problem with my clothes, I'll ask them if they've been outside recently and do they feel like wearing an outfit that forces you to sit in certain positions if only to be slightly comfortable for most of the day? And let's just not get into the footwear, really.

I can see the smoggy air as I'm driving into work, lingering around rooftops and sticking onto plants. It's disgusting. People have to drive with the a/c in their cars blasting and then turn the defrosters on because their windows start fogging up. The air feels so thick that I can imagine kids scooping the humidity up in their hands like summertime snowballs and throwing them at each other.

It sucks. That's all. It just really sucks. I cannot wait until the heat wave passes and fall sweeps in the more tolerant temperatures. I've never been more ready to pull out my sweaters and greet the cooler months.

Posted by Sam at 08:13 AM | Permalink | Comments (5) | TrackBacks (0)