processing

THE PROCESS OF PROCESSING: A WORK IN PROGRESS

6:17pm
I just got in from my "lunch" break. My fingertips are pink going to purple. (Call)

6:25pm
Okay, that girl was either new or hadn't a clue on basic troubleshooting so my body temperature just brought my fingertips back to pink/red. I can feel the blood rushing back to them./\/\/\ Something else that I never thought I would see---never thought of really---were naked pictures of James on the internet. It was quite the experience after lunch for Mark and myself today. I'll admit some level of desire to be portrayed in the buff, but not immortalized on the internet for all the world to right click and then "save as."/\/\/\I want to go out tonight. I was out Tuesday night with Chuck. Mickey's was "okay." I wasn't expecting much so I wasn't disappointed in going. I just realized right now why my calves---(call)

6:32pm
---hurt so much. I actually did dance pretty hard. At the end of the night they played "Rapture" bye IIO and that was enough to get me on the box. It felt strange dancing there---(call)

6:33pm....still on the call. This dipshit calls me for help and then wants to argue with me on how to help him.

6:37pm
((I ended up hanging up on him))---up on the box because of how much older I know I am than most of them. Almost a whole decade. I was quite winded after that song; surely an affect of the imbibing.(Call)

6:40pm
It's difficult writing with the constant interruption of work, but I'm falling asleep with my head tilted back, staring at the flourescent lighting. I am being paid to sit here and babysit these customer service representatives. That's the reality. Hold their hands to make sure that they're doing their jobs correctly and for those rare calls where they've done everything, then I'm being paid slightly more for my "technical" expertise. That's laughable, but somehow true..somehow /\/\/\I'm going out tomorrow night with Bobby so I'll stay in tonight. Rest. I feel like I never get sleep even though I'm sleeping a lot. I remember this situation from years ago. I'm wretched inside. I shared my thoughts with Mark today about the idea of therapy for myself. (((My conversation with Mark should be another process in the process))) I had never voiced that to anyone--not that there would be many to voice it to anyway. (Call)

6:51pm
I think a therapist would tell me the obvious, that if working things out are making things in me so chaotic that I shouldn't do that to myself. Communicate. Find coping skills. (call)

6:57pm
I think going to a therapist would allow me freedom and an out...but to what? (call)

7:04pm
I still have three hours left here. In some ways I feel like fabric has been torn that cannot be stitched in me, or that stitched, it will still never be the same. I wonder sometimes if I'm just weak and clinging to my emotions. (call)

7:13pm
I just sent D.R. a text message about the last call I had because I believe it was his rep. Laziness. I shouldn't talk really, look at me. Hahaha....and yet, I'm still DOING my job. (Call)

7:15pm
How long to make this entry? I remember Mrs. Dallas saying that your essay should be like a girls' skirt; short enough to keep interest but long enough to cover everything. I think now how risque that was for 7th graders to hear, but I'm glad she told us. It was pleasing./\/\/\I'm back to trying to drink water more often. I think my desire to go out is also a desire for aerobic activity. I want ---(call)

7:20pm
---to trim down to 150-155 again. I'm full of energy more when I feel less like I'm hauling around extra weight. For instance, walking after lunch with Mark today felt good, but I was acutely aware of my stomach and my waistline.

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I'm through for now.

j.r.me