Today I had lunch with my old pals from Arts-Friendly, and it was actually a really good time. It was, of course, the first time I�d seen them since I fled the office like it was on fire, and it was nice to see the gang again. It�s only barely been over two weeks since I left, but it felt more like an epoch or two had gone by when I called Carla and asked her to round up the gang for a quick lunch.
When I saw everyone again, it really highlighted two things for me: first of all, I�m so damn lucky to be not having that job anymore. I�d rather eat dirt out of a coffin than go back to work at Arts-Friendly, and even if the bizarre hours at my present job eventually drive me to paranoid schizophrenia, I�ll still be happier. I tried to ask about some of the fundraisers and a few of my old clients, but the words burned my tongue. Even thinking about the mental demolition derby I endured every day in that office makes a vein in my forehead throb.
The second thing it highlighted for me was that I actually really do like the people I worked with, including my replacement, Marcy. I did sort of ask her how she was holding up, and she sort of said she was doing fine, but again with the burning and the throbbing, so I changed the subject again. I wasn�t trying to be all General Franco with the conversational dictatorship or anything, but I�ve done all the thinking I care to about Arts-Friendly, and I�m done now.
I spoke with my mother on Tuesday morning, and she said something to me that gave me momentary pause. She told me that I finally sounded happy again, and that she�d been worried about me for a while. She said it wasn�t that I expressed being unhappy, but that there had been something missing from my voice for a long time and she was glad to hear it again. Frankly, I�m glad, too. Looking back, I realize I really was pretty miserable for a while, and I can even sense the change that�s taken place in only two short weeks.
Anyway, I still wanted to see all of my friends, so I arranged the lunch date. Clearly, I couldn�t go back to the office to say hi, since Sophie made that big speech about how I couldn�t be allowed back on the premises on security grounds, or some such exaggerated nonsense. Like that place is the fucking Pentagon or whatever. And furthermore, as if I could even be forced back in there if I was drugged with Quaaludes, bound hand and foot, stuffed into a cannon and fired through the front door. The sheer power of my will to never be within fifty yards of that office ever again would override every law of physics and might actually tear a black hole in the middle of Santa Monica by shredding the time/space continuum as my body reflected around the building.
Of course they didn�t show up at the restaurant until all late, so I spent a good fifteen minutes loitering around like some skeevy weirdo who was stalking the cashier, or just hanging around and looking for date. But they came eventually and we laughed and we laughed, and it was very much like old times. I think it was good that I waited two weeks before seeing them again, though. I feel like I needed that time to grow a bit.
Anyway, that�s what I did with my afternoon. Now I have to leave the office and get some damn sleep before I take a header onto my desk.
Someone Got Here By Searching For: cucumber proprieties I�m Watching: Manhunt, and why are those men so insufferable? It�s almost inexcusable, despite all the shirtlessness! And: Veronica Mars, which, damn it all, I like.