I Pity The Fool

No, not because I’m actually giving thanks.
It’s because I had a craving for a "Thanksgiving sandwich" all afternoon at work; since the one I ate a few weeks ago was from a restaurant upstate in High Falls, of course I had to compromise.  So I wound up stopping by the locally famous Neptune Diner on Astoria Blvd., on my way home from PM school.  Since I started working two afternoons per week at the adult females’ facility, I have been treating myself to dinners out on those days.  I bypassed the hot open sliced turkey sandwich in favor of "roast turkey with dressing* and cranberry sauce," which also comes with your choice of potato (mashed!), vegetable (broccoli!), and soup or salad (cream of mushroom!).  And as if that weren’t enough, the turkey comes served on a bed of STUFFING, which I love.  I finished the soup, but only ate about a third of the other stuff.  I anticipate that it will take me all week to get through it, but it’s a happy battle.  It also highlighted my distance from certain of my countrymen (and -women), or at least their skyrocketing obesity rates…I’m sure that some people would consider that a normal portion, and even my dad probably could have polished it off.  Instead, I had them wrap up the leftovers and throw in a piece of cheesecake-to-go, for later.  After an unusually long hunt for a parking spot that won’t be illegal in about 12 hours, I arrived home…I’m eating half of the cake slice right now, with a nice cup of tea.  My little apartment is cozy and warm, and I’ve rebooted the cable box.  Time for a quiet evening in.

*by dressing, they mean gravy!

This morning, instead of reporting to Jail School, I was sent as our representative to a special training on new regulations for reporting child abuse.  That’s even less fun than it sounds, by the way…and don’t bother to guess how many people made the joke about, "Child abuse training?  Oh, is that where they teach you how to really teach those kids a lesson?" (paraphrasing…slightly…).  Anyway, as nice as it sometimes can be to get a change of scenery, this definitely would have been more appealing if a) I still lived in Brooklyn, since it was about 5 to 10 minutes away from my family’s house on the train, but 45 minutes away from my current apartment and required me to transfer; b) I could have had a nice, quick, 9 to 12 workday instead of being scheduled to work evening school back on the island from 3 to 6; c) it were on a subject slightly less depressing than child abuse and/or more engaging than using technology unavailable at my workplace.
Anyway, despite having caught an extra 40 minutes or so of sleep, I found myself starting to doze off before even the first hour of the 9 to 12 presentation had passed.  I normally don’t drink regular coffee anymore, but decided that it was too embarrassing that another attendee had already had to prod me in order to get me to pass a handout along our row.  I scooted down to the building’s lobby to buy a snack and a large coffee…this is where I went wrong.  I was okay for the rest of the presentation, even though they were still only on page 5 (of 17!) on the handout by 11:30, and showed no signs of stopping by 12:30.  I was scheduled to meet my parents for lunch at 12, and had called them to say come a half hour later.  Other people must have had plans too, because I’m not the only one who wound up leaving while the speaker was still pressing along.
By the time my parents and I sat down in the restaurant, I had begun to feel irritable, jittery, and distracted…not unlike certain experiences during my high school days of yore, back when caffeine was not the only substance I was mishandling.  Since I didn’t want to come off as obnoxious or ill, I mentioned the coffee issue.  My mom suggested I eat some plain bread, while I thought drinking extra water might be helpful.  Consuming both of these did little to reduce the growing similarity between me and a certain, hypercaffeinated South Park character.
By the time I did eventually make it to PM school, I was crashing…having been cold on the train, nauseated on the horribly jerky busride, and suffocated by the cigarette smoke of the person who drove me from one part of the island to the other…also, by the time I went home, I had probably peed about six times.  Still, that’s one way to make it through a dreary, extended workday in the rain…
Aaargh!

P.S. I haven’t been posting much because I’m tired of my own whining.  I do have a couple of funny anecdotes from recent events, but can never think of the best phrasing when sitting in front of the ol’ computer.

This is from the lyrics to an Andrew Bird song called Tables and Chairs:

if we can call them friends then we can call them on their telephones
and they won’t pretend that they’re too busy or that they’re not alone
[a bunch of other lines]
and we were tired of being mild
we were so tired of being mild…

Originally, I thought the words were, "tired of being right…tired of being wrong…tired of being right."  Either way, I guess it still applies, since I am tired of all those things…
I haven’t written on this blog in a long time.  Sometimes I think about it, wondering if whatever recent mundane event or amusing anecdote would be worthy of my reader(s?) time and attention.  Other times, I feel like all I do is complain, and the most relevant people have heard it all anyway.
The past month or so have brought events both great and small…mainly small, though.
I’ve continued to explore my new neighborhood…now with the aid of a small, toylike automobile, which I purchased approximately two weeks ago.  I decided that I was too dependent on other people from work for rides.  Of course, now it still may be two months before I get a parking pass, but in the worst case scenario, I can drive to the visitor parking lot and try to get a ride (or wait for the bus) over the bridge.
I had a variety of guests in town, though most of them didn’t stay with me…much celebration with food and drink has helped me ignore the fact that I am still alone, despite all attempts half- and full-hearted to the contrary.
Two of my coworkers hooked up at the table during a recent drunken birthday party.  The only other person who knows, besides me, is of course the famous and previously-mentioned C-of-I.  In fact, it was his birthday, together with someone else who had left by then, and earlier in the week I had made them a cake and brought them presents.  As much as it delights me to come off as so nice, charming, thoughtful, and sweet…at the same time, I mentally kick myself for being abject, servile, debased, and doormat-like.  My genuine good-birthday-wishes were no less sincere, but I need to tone down the favors if these feelings remain unrequited.
Adding more fuel to the confused and mixed messages fire, I learned that C-of-I himself expressed the wish to have hooked up with someone…presumably your humble narrator, since I was the only other female there.  Yet since that time, he continues to avoid spending any time alone with me that isn’t during lunch or our daily commute.
Of course, I have more people on my side…but this is a cold comfort…there are rumors that he may have been set up with yet another girl from Long Island…to which I responded by attempting to meet new people on my own.  So far, the success rate is low…but I am trying not to be too discouraged.
In the meantime, the one person at work who I feel really knows me is now consumed with her new Secret Lover…they are together every day after work, when she and I used to hang out.  In some ways, it’s a blessing in disguise, since she actually hasn’t been so nice all the time to me lately.  On the other hand, now I have no more work buddy…unless you count the amount of time I spend at work trying to help her, and occasionally getting yelled at.
I’m starting to feel like this blog post is getting whiny and pointless.  I was originally going to add in some funny notes to myself that I unearthed today, but maybe I’ll save them for a cheerier overall post.  Hope all is well with everyone else…and for those of you who are worse off than I am, I want to be helpful and sympathetic- some days I am more so than others.  You know who you are.
To everyone else, sorry for being cryptic.  Bye for now.