||[Jan. 27th, 2008|01:35 am]
It seems the more I figure out, the less I know for sure.
My mind's already working as my body is slow to react. Mornings never were good to me. Pulling myself out of bed, Friday's skiing adventures never did treat me well the next day. It seems everything at the moment is methodological. Every day is a puzzle, and I slowly fill it in, piece by piece. I go through my regularities, shower-shampoo-shower again. And of course, pee in the shower. Everyone does it, no one ever admits it, but there is something strangley satisfying about urinating freely in a confined stall. I like to think I'm marking my spot, so no others may enter. Dressing is always a chore. Thankfully I already thought about what to wear in that 10 minutes of silent time in the shower. Why is the bathroom such a great place to think, or, not to think? I wonder if I am a bathroom Buddah? I suppose it will need further research. As time races against me, I toss myself together, yet another half-assed job (the story of my life it seems). My day perks up as I walk into a gentle winter kiss. The snow slowly falling on my face. I grin and set off to another day of working for the forces of consumerism. Bay street is in full swing, Saturday in the city is always a bit more annoying for those who live here. I walk by endless shoppers, eager to amass even further debt after the Christmas spending spree. I wonder how we do it, live our lives as we slowly sell more and more of ourselves to banks. The average Canadian has over $200,000 of debt. I can't even conceive of such a commitment. It seems life is now just a spread sheet. From the day we are born until the day we day we are just trying to balance our own budget.
Stefano Corp., since 1987.
I wonder how screwed my self-corporation will be after this university fiesta of fun and frolicking is over. I pass the usual crowd of homeless natives in the alley before Bay station and walk into the TTC, the most terribly run transit system in the world, and I'm off. Its funny how everyone tries to avoid each other. Just for fun, I tried staring at someone, and just found myself looking away after a couple seconds. I think avoidance is built into our genes. Humans survived for ten thousands years on flight over fight, who am I to change the system? I was suprised though. I'm not one to judge a book by its cover, but I did hold my bag a bit closer when my seat-neighbour to my left sat down. Six-five'ish, 230 pounds of big, black gangster. I'm not racist, just cautious. But for some reason, I really focused in on him. I tried to look past the XXXXL yellow Oakland A's jacket, and the corn rows for a second and see him for whom he was. Luckily I forgot my iPod or else I would have missed it. He was listening to Stan Getz. This, well, thug (for a lack of a better term) was a closet jazz fan. I found myself smiling inside. Maybe everyone wasn't so different after all.
And in this world of labels and terms, people can cut across borders. The old adage is right, never judge a book by its cover.
I arrive at my station and rush to work. So begins eight and a half hours of highs and lows. So is the nature of customer service. I find the hardest relationships to create are those with your co-workers. Its crucial to keep most of your cards to yourself, be friendly, but also cautious. Every job we're at, there is a game to play. It's easy enough if you really care. I find it's just a chance for someone to be the head douche in a sea of semi douches (me included). But it seems I actually found a friend. Someone truly interesting. A mix or liaise-faire work conduct and interesting conversation. People keep suprising me every day. After 20 years, I feel that I've become so jaded and opaque to things around me. Today was refreshing. Maybe it was the snow. Maybe it was the pain killers. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Whatever the hell it was, today was a decent day. Dare I say a milestone?
No, I dare not dare to say milestone. Maybe a blip on a flat line.
I really need to write here more.