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August 18, 2007

Weekends are weird

Weekends are weird for me lately because I have a lot of time to think and a lot of thinking to do. I'm back to that place where I have to sleep with the tv on because if I don't I'm planning work and solving all the world's problems at 3am while I lie awake tormented.

I'm reading Haunted by Chuck Palahniuk. Chuck makes you think and makes you feel so I was ripe for a little break from the norm before I ever set foot out the door this morning. I'm still early in the book and the recent touching sentiment was in regards to "Maybe suffering and misery is the point of life." Well I think I'll have that and a cupcake to dwell on for the rest of however long.

So I saw a city bus drive by and I considered getting on it, just to ride around the city, just to see who is on it and what I can discern about them from my observations. If I hadn't had to work I would have done it. I would likely have been disappointed but it would have been an experience one way or another.

I later had a discussion with someone about the kinds of characters I tend to make up when I (used to) role play. Well, typically they were something they weren't. Like something who doesn't know they are something else. Or something who is pretending to be something else. Or something, but trained to be something else. I wonder what that says about me and who I'd like to be.

I stopped for gas on my way home and as I waited in line at the quickie mart I saw a fat middle-aged redneck toting a 6-pack leaning in for a better look at my feet. I asked him if I could help him, he told me my feet were beautiful and apologized for staring. I told him people get tattoos because they want people to look so not to worry. He asked me if I had others and I moved my hair so he could see my neck. He leaned in close and said,

"You don't want to hear this but you have a pimple on your back. A friend told me I should squeeze pimples (he motions to the side of his nose). Do you want me to squeeze yours?"

"Thanks but no."

"Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure."

"You hate me. I'm not good enough. I'm just good enough to be your plumber."

I looked at him, said nothing, turned and walked out of the store. As I pulled away I watched for him to come out but he didn't. I did see a plumbers truck. Since then I've probably touched my back 1,000 times trying to feel the stupid pimple.

ShaeSin Ranted at August 18, 2007 9:42 PM