2:20 am - Thursday 11/07/02
A life boiled down to three words--Tired, Bored, and Lonely

Typically, if it occurs to me to write this late at night, after I've gotten home from work, and watched whatever "stories" I've taped from earlier in the evening, I don't do it.

In my "pocket journal", I recently wrote that I almost never write in here when I'm feeling my worst (And interestingly enough, I also almost never write in here when I'm feeling my best, an admittedly more rare occurence).

By and large, I'm not doing very well lately. Bored, lonely, assaulted by negative thoughts I'm having a hard time keeping at bay, it's just not much fun being me lately.

Back to the pocket journal...another thing I wrote recently was something to the effect that my desire for Kyle and my desire for one of those new Mini Coopers kind of comes from the same place--They both strike me as being fun, and folks, I'm just not having very much fun. I'm craving "fun", honest-to-God enjoyment of life on at least a semi-regular basis. I'd like "fun" to be more than little one shot deals life doles out to be every couple of months...if I'm lucky.

I know--Mark and Jane just visited a few weeks ago. And it was fun.

But that was a couple days of having a good time in a year and a half of not having a good time. And now they're gone.

And remember how I called Cressandra Tuesday night ("Fear and trepidation" and all that)? Well, she didn't call me back that evening, she didn't call me at any point yesterday, and you know something? I'm kind of thinking she won't be calling me back at all.

Who knows? Maybe tomorrow or the next day, I'll be writing a journal entry about how silly I feel for overreacting, how she called me Thursday night, we had a great talk, we went out for breakfast on Friday, and everything is great.

But I'm just having a sense that's not what's gonna happen.

And just in case you want to lay this off on my pessimism, my low self-esteem, my whatever, I have to tell you, I've danced this little jig before; I ask a woman out, she says "yes"--because she feels "on the spot"--but the last thing in the world she actually wants to do is go out with me.

She says "yes", and while for me, back in the old country that meant "Yes, I'd like to go out with you at our earliest mutual convenience", here it means something more like, "I will say yes because it's easier for me than to say no, but from now till the end of our lives, I will never be available to go out with you. Not to have coffee, brunch, lunch, dinner, or a midnite snack. You might have thought a door was opening to you with that 'yes', but the door will remain, irrevocably, bolted shut".

But maybe I'm overreacting (If I am? Sue me. I don't do this very often, it was a big leap for me, and I'm lonely).

But I'll bet you a dollar that's what's going on (Wanna bet? I could sure use the cash...).

Is this creepy?... I looked her up on Google, figuring if she'd done anything as a writer, it might pop up (Turns out she's a woman of some accomplishment--writer, film director, journalist--which kind of adds to my sense of doubt that her "yes" was a genuine "yes". Again, not low self-esteem on my part--I know I've got it going on as majorly-talented "Actor Man"--but realistically, all she's seen is a middle- aged man working in a bookstore. Seeing it from her point of view, I could understand why she might not be overly impressed).

Oh who cares, anyway? I hear this "sex" thing is overrated at best. And "love" is for the weak-minded.

Bored and lonely, lonely and bored...

You know, right after I wrote about Kyle, and how I like her and am attracted to her, but nothing will happen because her boyfriend is really cute and she's basically just a kid(Though a really smart, funny kid), I spent a fair chunk of Tuesday night at work hanging out with her, and one of the things she told me was that it wasn't really happening with the boyfriend, and it occurred to me that, age difference aside, she's smart and funny and sexy and I like her.

Hey, I found out recently that Lori--remember Lori?--has been going out with Neal, I guess since forever (Or at least from back during the time when she was a manager). It was hush-hush up till now-- because of that forbidden manager/peon dynamic--but now that she's busted herself down to "shelver", the secret's out (Neal seems like a basically good guy. I don't really feel like I know him that well, since I've worked mostly closings and he works openings).

That news hurt somehow. I don't know why.

I think periodically about starting another, anonymous journal in Diaryland. One where I could really "let it all hang out".

Of course, I could just do it the old-fashioned way and keep a separate "book journal". But I think I've become addicted to this, to feeling like I'm "talking" and someone somewhere is "listening".

Don't know why, but I'm feeling a wave of anger at myself now. For what? For being lonely, for being horny, for admitting that I feel really sad?

I'm not exactly sure why I think that's a crime, but apparently I do.

Well, now I am feeling really tired. I think I'm going to go to bed, get a shitty night's sleep, and wake up tomorrow groggy and irritable, and ready to take this up again.

Tired, bored, lonely. The great triumvarate of my life...

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