Incongruous

January 12, 2009

… and so another work week commences.

Before I became office worker bee extraordinaire two years ago, I tucked away six years of waitressing and bar experience at several restaurants. I have a lot of fond memories that include many quirky customers and experiences that I met along the way. The restaurants were an extremely social experience. Sometimes I think that if I never forced myself out of my shell of shyness to do that job, I’d be a much different person today.

I received a series of text messages last night from an old regular customer, whom I assume still cavorts with some of my former coworkers.

 

M: (Your  old boss) says hello in an indirect way.
Cristina: What does that mean?
M: We just had an argument about you.
Cristina: What about?
M: Your work performance. I was trying to protect you.
Cristina: Who’s we?
M: A few of us. Guess.

I got fed up with this foolish exchange and didn’t bother responding. He implies that they were arguing that I was a bad worker… which may or may not be true – but to bring it up over two years after the fact is completely pointless. Other than an improved set of interpersonal skills and a great number of funny stories, I carried basically nothing over from all those years. Whether or not I was an ace performer is completely and totally irrelevent to anything that I do nowadays and there’s just no point wasting any effort in opposing that kind of implication. 

It’s strange when someone remembers you in a very specific context that’s no longer congruous with your current lifestyle. That regular customer knows me as a schmoozing, drinking night owl who likes to eat good food, stay up all night, drink bubbly and roll on chrome. That’s just not my style anymore. Nowadays, I spend the majority of the time being productive for the first time in my life. I go to bed around midnight every night. I have a routine. I like chilling in my PJ’s, playing video games, blogging. I knit scarves and socks. You know? I’m relaxed. I own property. I have a will. I have a car and adult things to worry about. The “new” me (whom is not actually new, but just a simpler, pared down version of my old self) is responsible and fucking “boring” compared to the old me, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Lately I’ve been unintentionally emasculating a few guys that I know and it sort of grosses me out. I’ve been kicking male ass in video games, furniture assembly, computer knowledge… it’s proving to be difficult to stay patient with them. It’s not that I expect all guys to have “man” knowledge, but they always seem like hurt puppies afterwards and I just crave more of a challenge than that – from men and women alike.

I set up my TV and holy shit, I never realized just how many wires I had in such a concentrated area. TV, DVD player, Xbox360, cordless phone, speakers for my computer, modem and router, lamp, computer… the list goes on. The el cheapo Ikea TV stand that I bought Friday afternoon (which came in an awkward five foot, fifty pound box that I wrestled by myself into my car with much struggle) seems to hide all the wires just dandy, even without me having to devise some kind of wire-management plan.

Behold.

 
It just so happened that my friend Alicia was only able to meet up with me after midnight on new year’s, so I spent the actual countdown webcamming with my internet bff, Derrick. As depressing as this sounds, I felt pretty content. At midnight, we decided to see which one of us could get the most text messages, so we both started sending our friends celebratory “happy new year!” messages. I didn’t get a single response, which is pretty fucking sad, but not nearly as depressing as the sole response that Derrick received which was “who is this?”.
  

Afterwards, I ventured out into the real world with real people and welcomed 2009 in style.

 

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