Low, Part A

Low. That is my life right now. The sleepless nights have returned. The sporadic eating habits. The uncontrollable emotions. The immense hatred towards all things not Starbucks and M&Ms. The breaking out like a sixteen year old. I am an unfortunately miserable being.

Why? My job is dumb. And because office tales are boring for all people uninvolved, you will simply have to take my word for it. Not only is my job dumb, a problem I could handle, I hate the work. And not just a whiny-complainy dislike, this is a full-blown hatred. As a result, these past few weeks have been a horrid blur of awfulness.

I suggest you quit reading now. Life is about to get real. There may be some grand, wonderful things I could write about, but I am numb to those things. Awesome as they may be, they do not feel so awesome in that moment. They feel forced. They feel like out of body experiences. Oh the fun! 

The recap I do not actually recommend you read.

Monday, 4/28 – Miserable day of work, followed by an exhaustive evening of a full apartment scrub-down. 

Tuesday, 4/29 – An exceptionally miserable day of work, followed an evening of cooking. And meal prep for the week, two days behind schedule.
Wednesday, 4/30 – A solid eight hours of awfulness, followed by trivia. Our hodgepodge team, scrambled up minutes before the start of trivia each week managed to continue our winning streak, taking home victories for best team name, half-time shots, and first place gift certificate—a clean sweep, one might call it.

Thursday, 5/1 – A plain, miserable May Day, followed by drinks with K.S.D. at Carpool. Drinks that went very late into the night... on a school night.

The calm, quiet weekend I envisioned was anything but. After a real long day at the office, which included an extended lunch with my not so beloved New Boss. (I shant complain too much as we dined at District Taco on Fish Taco Friday.) To extend the day further, I walked home from work in hopes of absorbing Spring weather. Then I sprinted to Eat Bar to celebrate A.J.S.’s new (and greatly improved) position at her employer of choice. And revel we did with a happy hour that went until I hit the sack.  Saturday, I had some time in the morning to make myself a breakfast of eggs, beans, and sweet potato fries before Boyfriend and I were off to volunteer at the Library Book Sale. We had so much fun organizing books. I do not kid. We literally plotted ways to improve upon the sale next year. So much fun. If you doubted my love of books before, the doubting should cease now. There were some gems—beloved childhood books to all my favorite current reads to the History of Nations, Volume 19: Africa, Boyfriend’s pick. We could have filled a library (or two). There were SO many to choose from.

(It should be noted that I might love organizing more than books. The overwhelming excitement I experienced by spending my free day organizing books. Well that, I cannot explain.)

When we finally left the book sale, hours after the end of our shift… we met friends for some loitering around our neighborhood. And in doing so, we hit up a thousand free samples—Yappy Hour, Whole Foods, Starbucks Frappuccino Hour, Grateful Red—before finding an establishment to settle in and complain endlessly about work. Actually, I think that was just half the group. But it was my half so it shall be documented. The conversation gradually improved to things like food, specifically ice cream sandwiches. Even more specifically to homemade ice cream sandwiches. Naturally, this was our next move. The necessary ingredients were gathered and the baking of cookies ensued. Turns out, ice cream sandwiches require ample (i.e., a lot of) freeze-time. From what I remember, we enjoyed cookies while playing Mario Kart and thought about how great our ice cream sandwiches would be the next time we all get together. That will be in an approximate month, if history repeats.

On Sunday, I ran 14 miles. I like to feel accomplished. Proceeding those two hours of nonsense, I showered. You are more than welcome. Then I immediately ran (yes, more) to Brooklyn Bagels for—you guessed it—bagels. And maybe an egg. And onion. And cheese. I also brought an apple and left over sweet potato fries because I knew the aforementioned simply would not be enough. From breakfast, I convinced Boyfriend a bike ride would be fun. (I can convince him of such fun precisely once a year. This was a BIG deal.) He was sold on the Gravelly Point destination. 

We pretty much sat on a blanket eating snacks as we watched the planes come and go from Reagan National Airport for the entire afternoon. Blissful it was, as I recall. The rest of the night was rather uneventful; I was asleep before 9:00 pm.

Life continues...