2001-03-31

It's Friday night and I'm drinking a big, fat, gin and tonic. I filled a glass with ice, and then halfway with Sapphire. It was a little strong, so I've filled the glass with more tonic a couple times. That's cheating, perhaps, but still effective. It's been one of those weeks.

I had to tell a temp employee who's been with the company for a while now that we no longer need her services. Why am I the lucky one who gets to break the bad news? I can't and won't go into detail here for legal and ethical reasons, but it went better than I expected. But I still felt like shit afterwards, even though it wasn't my idea and I was just the heavy. So I'm drinking today.

But she's gone, a couple freelancers are gone, and my boss is out on vacation. She's left the asylum to the lunatics. It used to be that if the Boss left, we basically got a vacation too. I think other than leaving relatively early, nothing's different now than when she's here, which either means we're too busy to stop or she really doesn't do anything but contribute to the madness. I'm sayin' nothing either way.

I'd be a really bad alcoholic, though. I enjoy the odd drink, but I'm not actually fond of being intoxicated. And I always stop myself before I really overindulge. Over the course of a few hours I've finally drained the G&T, but I also had a big Japanese meal in there. (Friday Night is Sushi Night, of course, which makes Saturday Morning cold sushi breakfast.) Though lunch was only a bagel, and it didn't happen until 5pm anyway. Argh.

Before I left for work today I filled my MP3 player with kinky music. Intellectual songs about getting it on. Dance tracks about using condoms. Sex Dwarf. That sort of thing. But because there is no pleasure without punishment, I also threw a copy of Skunk Anansie's "Infidelity (Only You)" on there. Keepin' it real.

Now, I don't really feel guilty looking at other guys, as the Roommate asked after a previous entry. I like looking at sexy men. It's affirming to have someone seek out eye contact with me. I do feel a little guilty though -- maybe guilty is the wrong word, but it'll have to do -- for flirting a little when I know Iwon't follow through. At the same time, I'm not convinced that the looks I get in return are interested looks more than just "who's looking at me?" looks. Or the more common "who's the freak with the bad hair?" looks, but those are different altogether. I got a lot of those on the train today, when I felt something spring out of place up there and couldn't see to fix it until I got to work. Ah well, fuck vanity.

The point is, spring has sprung, indeed, and you can nearly smell the queer boys' hormones raging out there. Like when the local circuit queen walked into my office cooing like a schoolgirl over pictures of the Carlson twins. Hey, thanks for sharing; did you maybe have some work to do today, or are you and the twins just going to the restroom to work it out? Whatever. I'm looking forward to a little quality time with Boyfriend. And for everyone's safety, that's about as far as I'll go into what that entails, mmmkay?

In fact I'm finding that Spring has sprung so totally that it's too warm for me out there already, and it's not even April yet. I'm outside in short sleeves and sunglasses, but still all in black, of course, just sweatier than last month. I've never figured out quite what appropriate Goth Summer apparel really is. It's not exactly our season, and one can only wear poet shirts so often...well, actually one shouldn't wear poet shirts at all, but that's another matter.

But in the end it'll all be OK...soon it'll be summer in San Francisco, and I can break out my heavy coats again.

I'm still doing the email thing. I'm still not very good at it. Did I mention the email thing? I don't think I did. I nearly made a resolution to myself recently that I would send email to people more often, because I'm basically a recluse and don't like talking on the phone to anyone besides my mother and my Boyfriend, and I figured that emailing people I knew or who wrote me or whose sites I visit or something would... I dunno... encourage me to get out the chair, eventually, and go do things with people, whatever those undefinable things would be. Anyway. I didn't commit myself to anything more than trying, so I'm not under pressure to write more, but I am trying to encourage myself to do more of it. I'm trying to be more responsive to personal email, like I try to do with work email. I figure I owe my life more than I owe my job at this point.

Which reminds me, I need to write a friend who's working at yet another company rumored to be failing fast. I do worry about my friends, even if I never initiate conversation with them. But I'm relatively proud to have sent email and even presents to a couple people whom I read and/or used to know this week. But I need to write more, quick, before I disappear into the murky grey of the Internet again.

All right, before I plunge headlong into this weekend's extensive to do list, I need to stop something else I've been doing all week: falling asleep on the keyboard. The G&T is taking its toll, let me tell you. Being a lush is hard work.

Or am I missing the point again?

2003-03-29 - Moving Notice
2002-06-04 - Accordians and Ambassadors (Diary Fragment)
2002-05-24 - Manias (Diary Fragment)
2002-05-09 - See this little island here?
2002-04-24 - Bored and Drippy.