Trooper would like to take this moment to say hello to everybody. He would also like you to know that he is not the one going to the vet tomorrow. And he would like a cookie.
I am such a brown-noser lately, it would disgust me, except that I'm doing it for a good cause...namely, a bigger bonus next year.
Part of the problem (or better work ethic, to put a positive spin on it) is that I'm waking up in the morning with a lot of energy these days. I go to bed pretty late, but around 7:30-8:00am, I'm up. Time was, I'd wake up around then, but go immediately back to sleep. Now when I'm awake, I'm awake, like someone being brought out chemically from anesthesia. For awhile, it was disconcerting, but now I've grown used to it, and have found that getting immediately out of bed and doing something helps me keep my sanity, for a born-again morning person.
Trouble is, there ain't much to do for a single guy who lives with his mother at 7:30 in the morning. TV is no fun until 10am, when Starting Over begins. So I'll troll around on message boards and read journals for awhile, maybe send out an e-mail or two, and then, since it's so easy to do, I'll check in on what's going on at work.
Today when I checked in, I saw that the design in-box was fairly full, and a couple of "urgent" documents were scheduled. I instant-messaged Dan about helping out for a little while, at least until 11am, when Jan and Laurie show up. He seemed surprised. ("Are you actually asking to take work on your day off?" was what he said, I believe.) But after I assured him that I was just kind of bored and thought it would be nice to help out, he assigned me a cleanup job that wasn't too arduous. It took me about an hour, and I asked him if there was anything else he needed me to do, and he said thank you, but not really. I said I'd stick around online until about 11am, just in case, and added, "I'm really just aiming for a bigger bonus next year, you know."
He replied, "That's an excellent strategy."
Hey, whatever works.
Just to let y'all know, I've changed the names of my coworkers as of today, going back through all my entries, because Saundra suggested that after the heavy conversation I related from yesterday's entry, I was leaning into "telling other peoples' stories" territory. I concur, and thus everyone at work now has an alias. Not that they wouldn't guess who they were if they ever crossed these pages, it's just better if they remain as anonymous as I can make them and still talk about my experiences at work. Family and friends keep their real names, or at least the names they use on the internet.
The rest of today was just a mess of badly-mismanaged appointment-making.
Skottie (who is a totally black dog, and thus can't be photographed at night, even with the lights on...I'll get a pic of him tomorrow when the sun's out) has to go to the vet for an ear infection. He has really long ears, and they always seem to get infected. Or maybe he's had the same infection all this time, even after the antibiotics and the ear wash and the cream regimen we use.
At any rate, I called the vet to inquire as to whether they could see him soon. They said they had one appointment open tomorrow at 11:30am. I told the nice receptionist that 11:30 suited me just fine, and hung up the phone.
I spliced some speaker wire onto Mom's stereo when the phone rang. It was Jane, who called to tell me that there was no street parking in Boston, so I may want to re-schedule my appointment. I said that I could get a spot in a lot near Fenway park and walk the few blocks to her office. She asked me how I was doing, and I said I was doing great, and she said, "Do you think you need an emergency appointment?" I said there was no emergency, but going into a lot in Boston rather than paying a meter was no big deal.
I hadn't hung up for more than a minute when the eye doctor's office called me, telling me that my new contact lenses were in, and that I needed to come in for a fitting. (Another chance to see Al? Up close? Rrrowr!) (Okay, he's not going to go to the Duran Duran concert with me, and if he did, he'd probably insist on taking his wife along, which would make for a pretty rotten date.) I told them I was available tomorrow and Thursday, so they made an appointment with me for tomorrow at 11:30.
I ran upstairs to take a shower so that I'd be presentable to Jane. Halfway through washing my hair, I realized I had just double-booked myself. After dressing, I called the office back and asked to switch the time at which I could come in. The receptionist told me that there wasn't anything else for tomorrow, but that I could come in at 10 on Thursday. That was fine with me, so I booked it.
I picked up my cell phone to bring with me into Boston and I noticed that someone had left me a message while I was in the shower. I retrieved the message, which was from Al, saying that he couldn't fit me in at 11:30, but he could see me at 12:30, if I wanted. Apparently, that spot got filled while I was shampooing. I missed an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone, as the vet's office and the eye doctor's shop are fairly close to one another.
I drove into Boston, stopping off at work to pick up my W-2s from payroll, and then hopping down to the office to visit with Laurie. We arranged to have dinner tonight, as Mom was going out with friends to celebrate her birthday. After saying hi to everybody (and explaining to Walter that I was not in to do more work), I drove to Fenway, parked in the garage under the old Sears building (the lot was full), and walked to Jane's office.
I rang the buzzer in the lobby entrance. No reply. Sometimes, she's in the restroom when I arrive (she tends to pee between clients, I've found), so I waited a couple of minutes and buzzed again. Still no reply. I called her to see if she was stuck in traffic or something, and she said that she thought I'd said that I wasn't going to come in this week. I told her that I thought I'd said that I'd park somewhere other than at a meter. At any rate, there's no crisis going on in my life right now, so we arranged to meet next week, when the conditions will most likely be better, parking-wise.
Since I had some time on my hands, I went to Shaw's and picked up some stuff to make lasagna for dinner with Laurie. Luckily, no appointment was needed for that.
I said a couple of days ago that I was going to set aside a certain amount from my bonus for something that I didn't realize I wanted, but that I'd know it once I thought of it.
Well, after reviewing what I should be getting back from my federal income tax (if the forms I looked up online are right), I can add another chunk of change that matches that sum for my purchase. And now I know exactly what it is that I want.
A digital video camera.
A reader a long time ago sent me an analog video camera, which was great to have, but the battery port on it never worked right, so my videotaping abilities were extremely limited. I was able to send in my application to Big Brother with it, but that's pretty much the extent of what I was able to do.
With digital video, I'd be able to shoot short pictures of scripts that I've written which might translate into film, or those that I've written especially for film, such as Icarus. Pieces with minimal set requirements, no special effects, and which require the types of actors I know personally.
I don't expect this to go anywhere but as a personal project that I can work on. If I find that I like what I'm doing, then I'll spend more money for better equipment and better editing software and become a true independent filmmaker. Then I can regale all my friends and family (and you) with tales of shooting schedules, finding locations, creating props for no money, and actors' fits.
Just like when I was producing my own plays!
Actually, there's a good chance that I'll be taking over the day shift for 12 weeks this summer, while Terry is away on maternity leave. If that's the case, then I'm going to put together a production of Parthenogenesis, and get some feedback on it. Plus, I might be able to make a few bucks on the production. Every play I've ever self-produced has made money.
It's pretty nice to have some goals to look forward to. Work goals, artistic goals, and personal goals.
Speaking of personal goals, I'm thinking of taking out an online personal ad. It's worked for me in the past (it's how I met Tim, for instance). I don't quite know the wording for it yet, but it has to specify that the person I'm seeking is someone who appreciates some pop culture (Diego taught me the lesson that I can't be quite myself with someone who's totally off the radar in that sense. Having to stop a conversation to explain who Britney Spears is gets old after awhile), likes to read, likes movies and theater, will put up with my taste in music at least half the time, and is really interested in becoming a part of my life, rather than just a segment of his life (aka, he has to be completely out of the closet).
In a journal I can't find anymore but I read once, written by a sex industry worker, he talked about how the only thing that really turned him off was a guy who insisted that he wasn't good enough in one way or another to be attractive. I know I've had issues with this in the past, so I stopped taking pictures of the dog long enough to snap this quick shot:
Patrick would like to say hi. He is going to the vet tomorrow, but luckily he won't have to have his ears looked at. He would also like a cookie.
I don't think it's too bad a shot, for someone who hasn't been to the gym in over a year and whose diet consists all too frequently of Oreo cookies. Laurie might give me some shit over pulling "the pose," as she calls it. Basically, it's a picture taken from above, with the head tilted slightly. But I'm not opening my eyes really wide like I usually do in pictures, and this one was as close to a candid shot as I could take. (There's always some posing going on when doing a self-portrait.)
Heck, I might even give that guy a second glance. And that's never anything I'd think I'd say about myself before now.
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Patrick's Daily Journal