Dear Diary,

Let me just complain about work a little bit:

First of all, what's up with the ancient food in the office refrigerator? There is some orange soup shit that has been in there for at least two weeks, I'm sure of it. I remember thinking last week that I should throw it out, but I wasn't sure if it was old soup shit or new soup shit, like maybe the person buys the same food. But now, I'm pretty sure, because it's been balanced on the same retch-inducing piece of spanikopita that I will decline from even attempting to guess its age. I am the only one that EVER throws anything out of that refrigerator. I finally threw out a jar of tartar sauce, nothing looked like it was going on there. Also one time I went to take an old apple out of there and dropped it on the floor... and it just splock!ed on the ground and the bottom part that hit the ground got all FLAT, that's how rotten it was, like a cartoon.

Secondly, occasionally I have to share this office with two other people. They have the brilliant idea of inviting another person in for a "meeting". I call her MarbleMouth, because, not only does she talk too much and too loud, but her mouth sounds like it is full of marbles. And MarbleMouth puts her chair at the only point of egress from my desk-- so everytime I have to get up, which is often, because I have to look busy or go to the bathroom or get away to goof off properly-- I have to say excuse me, and squeeze around her, and maybe she will shift her chair a little bit and huff a little and act all annoyed. But I feel like, WHAT THE FUCK? You sit there every week, and every week I have to get out and the same thing happens, you are old enough now where you should be able to recognize the FUCKING PATTERN and PUT YOUR FUCKING CHAIR SOMEWHERE ELSE. Jeez.

And lastly, I must say, what's up with the fucking air conditioning, and what are you doing with that? For some reason the people I work with feel that they have to have the air conditioning on high, just because the calendar says it's July (yes, I know that rhymes). It doesn't matter if it's a cool, rainy day, the air conditioning is still blasting away (another rhyme, I'm on a roll). Not only does it SOUND like we are in a FUCKING AIRPLANE HANGAR, it's fucking FREEZING in here, Mr. Bigglesworth. If it were this temperature outside, they'd be wearing coats, but since they've succumbed to some kind of mindfuck SUMMER=AIRCONDITIONING, it's sweatertime. Ridiculous. We have windows, which open, and let in sunshine and real air, but for some reason, this does not appeal.

Well, that's enough of that for now.

I am still riding the grief train. Tears come regularly.

Sunday I had two dates. The first was with Stan, whom I haven't seen since before I left for the training, so I kind of felt like I should make a plan with him. The thing is, I'm not really interested in him as a date/boyfriend kind of thing, but I'm all for hanging out and eating lunch, so I wonder if I'm supposed to tell him I'm not really interested, or if we're just supposed to go along and do whatever. I tried to be pretty clear the first time that we went out together, that I was just getting out of a relationship and wasn't really interested in pursuing any romance-type of issue right away. Is that sufficient? Or should I have said, "I never want to kiss you, ever." because it seems that Stan wanted to kiss me... we had an okay lunch, talked about some stuff... wherein Stan basically admitted to being a rather hopeless, lazy type that is slow to pursue goals and make changes. Almost like he is not really sure he wants to be alive. Hmmm. Makes me wonder if it's kind of like that movie Poltergeist when the spirits stole Carolann because she possessed all that light and aliveness. I don't want Stan to try and suck up my life because he can't muster enough of his own. Anyway, at our parting, he tried to a) invite himself over to my house, which was not happening and b) start talking about silly shit after we'd already said good-bye, which makes me think maybe he was trying to get up enough nerve to kiss me. I was neither nervous nor wanting to kiss him, more like, I felt like I had not had enough time to myself that day, and I wanted to go home and cry, which I did.

After my cryfest, Phil came over, because he too had expressed an interest in doing something. Phil feels like he's quite smitten with me too, but might be satisfied with being friends. For one thing, he told me that he likes that I'm just "real" and myself, and I lie down when I'm tired, or say when I'm hungry. The other thing is, he asked how I was doing after the breakup, and I told him I cry everyday, and he said he was sorry about that. He came over and brought me some flowers, and since I said he could come over on the condition that I didn't have to entertain him, we just hung out, he gave me some opinions on some artwork I was doing, looked through some of my books while I packed for this weekend, and watched a DVD with me, and then went home. Didn't feel like a big deal and he doesn't try to make anything happen. Also he seems like a real sensitive type and a good friend to have.

So actually, I was thinking of telling Stan in a nice way that I am too sad to have a boyfriend right now. This seems nicer than saying, "I am not attracted to your nervous, lazy self." Because obviously, it's not really a blanket response, if I find myself attracted to Alphie. There is definitely something to be said for chemistry and connection, otherwise why would I be flying to Canada in two days?

Hmm?

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