So it's starts with a very brisk 5 minute walk for a quarter of a mile to the sandwich shop. A 6 minute wait in line and order, cause I was unfortunate and got the early lunch. Another 3 min even brisker walk back. Sit at the bench at the reflecting pools and eat sandwich for 6 minutes. One minute to clean up. 2 minutes to walk back and put up the other half of uneaten sandwich. Because you can't eat a whole sandwich in 6 minutes, it's a feat even I can't defy. I then finally get to pee for 4 minutes and back up the stairs and at post in one minute with a minute to spare. I even managed to do all this without passing out. How is your lunch break at your day to day grind? Tell me in the comments below.
The past-time of looking up ex's and stalking them on social media was talked about at work. Though at the moment it seemed painfully clear, just don't. I was smart enough to bite my tongue remembering, it isn't an easy temptation to avoid. Secretly I held my head high and thought to myself, thank God I don't have an ex I feel compelled to stalk on the internet. Mostly because for years no one has wanted me or as of late I have been compelled to live a spinsters life. Then I get home and think to myself , who, who from my dating past would I want to look up? Oh stop living in denial, just three weeks ago you were looking up J for an email address and a few days ago I wanted to know how Loser B turned out. But I have been a very good little girl and it's been years since I've looked up E, which had in the past become a borderline obsession, but what about Bastard the third? I have mildly stalked, nothing over the top though. Phew, I'm normal and no longer need to dwell on the subject.
And like a true insomniac moments after my head hitting the pillow in protest to sleep. I pop up grab my kindle and feverishly I start looking up J and then I move onto E and no need to look up B as days ago I found, he actually got his shit together. He is now responsible for a tiny human and learned how to run a comb through his hair, Oh! and is that button up collard shirt underneath a sweater? Cheers mate, can't be mad at ya. At the end of my "research" the closure I was so seeking and needing, I finally got. It would be unorthodox to use people smart, people search, intelius... etc to get rid of you're issues. It probably isn't for everyone, but it's a lot cheaper than a therapist. I have finally exorcised the boyfriends of Andria's past. You know the nagging part of me that thought every waking day they thought about me and the missed opportunity of ever having a girl like me. Well turns out I am as forgettable as I seem and there's a reason why things don't work out. Lesson learned never chase anything that was never meant to be. Never dream a failed never to exists love will magically come to be. That shit only exist in movies.
During my research I found out whatever they wanted from a significant other they wouldn't find in me. I'm not the white picket fence child bearing type. I like my freedom, my whelm to do whatever I want. To not express concern to things I don't care about or to fell the need to have all of my waking days filled with only one certain person. I want to go out and party with just my friends or meet new people and not have to answer to someone. To sleep past noon. I like to be concerned about what im wearing. To spend my money irresponsibly on skinny jeans, not ill-fitted mom jeans. Hey, if that's you're cup of tea that's you're cup tea and congrats in finding it. I am a irresponsible responsible adult and I don't find myself changing that anytime soon. As I have found what I actually want to do and get from my life I have come to realize what I want from a boyfriend isn't from the past, thank god! In my heart of hearts I will believe there is someone in the future for me, as peculiar and particular as I am eventually I will be with the one I'm suppose to be with, possibly...maybe
I usually don't talk to a lot of people at my paper pushing job. Partly because deep down inside I don't like people, partly I don't want to talk to half the people I work with, partly I could careless if I'm talking to people and having to listen to what they have to say. However I get to observe people while at work.
And there is just this one motherfucker, that all I can say is, what is the deal, is this working for you? First I'm apparently older than this guy yet he looks way older than I am. It doesn't help either that he acts like most of my Dad's older male cousins that I remember when I was younger. I know most people don't look as young as I do for my age and even someone younger can look older than me. I get it, it's mostly good genes. I like to think that I kind of do some work to keep myself healthy and not rapidly aging so fast. Truth is, it's easy to look young when you're not a chain smoker and can limit your alcohol intake. Yet this dude wears clothes three times his size. Which could be easy since I think he barely weighs 100 pounds and he's not even my height. Then the do rag he has to wear until he gets into work, only because it isn't permitted, otherwise I think he would wear that ridiculous thing all day 24/7. The other day I caught him wearing his pants almost by his ankles and the only reason he got away with it is because he had that long undershirt tucked in, you know so not as to disrespectfully show of his underwear to the world and then a longer shirt over that. He may not be as old as me, but he's still in his 30's. Clearly by the way he's dressed he is quite the gentleman. If that means every night at the end of the shift he tries to cut inline so that he can quickly go outside to wait for his ride to pick him up. Then yes, a gentleman indeed.
It wouldn't be surprising to know that he has mostly annoyed the women here and who only interact with for entertainment purposes or they are at that same level. And I'm really open to different styles that people express themselves with.
I just don't understand how people get stuck and dress as the would at high school and never move on to a more sophisticated age appropriate dress. Cause there's nothing that makes you more dated and aged then to just keep on being who you are in high school. There's a part of ourselves that tend to evolve or strive for maturity as we learn life's lessons. Oh well all I can say is . . .
You're taking a leisurely walk or sitting at your desk and then...YOU run your hand through your hair feeling something funny and that's odd, you don't remember putting a bobby pin in your hair. Now this foreign object is in your hand and you can't make out what it is. So now it's this panic of mystery and uncertainity. What is this in my hair, is it a leaf, a dried piece of flower, a seed of some kind or worse.....the dead carcass of a bug or worse a live carcass of a bug, maybe bird shit? Now depending on the situation and may be able to quickly discard it on the sly hoping no one sees you ditch something after running your fingers through your hair and be on your merrily way, maybe run you fingers through again just to make sure there isn't anymore. But then you might think to yourself as you get rid of it, did anyone see it in my hair? How long has it been in my hair? Is there more than one? Did they start multiplying? And if someone saw something in my hair, why didn't they say anything preventing further colonization in you hair. Cause if they seen it do they just think that you never wash your hair allowing unimaginable things to grow in it. Now if you're are not situation number one. You might want to take a look before you toss it. You might take a quick look to make sure no one has saw you discover something in you're that shouldn't be there. But do you dare after the freak out, to look at it, to actually find out what it is. What if it is a bug, a living bug in you're hair all day, with maybe others that you haven't discovered yet, creating a family and putting up real estate. So you look and squint and then finally release your breath, ohh it's just a balled up little dried leaf. And this is what happened from my walk to my car from work.
So you are probably wondering why call my blog dairy Comfortable Shoes. Well after years of receptionist to desk job to salon receptionist to desk job to salon receptionist. Floating in a ebb of mindless unappreciated work. I grew found of heels and in a sitting all damn day positions heels are perfect. Heels made me feel beautiful, heels got me attention. Now I'm not going to say that all heels are comfortable, some more than others yes. However comfortable shoes come in array of different flavors and what can be deemed as comfortable can actually be uncomfortable. Like my currently worn 15 dollar ballet flats from Target. They look comfortable but that's about it because Target doesn't know what a size 10 ballet flat is and so I have once again had to get a size 10 because the size 11 barely stays on my fit, but none the lesson learned no more buying ballet flats from Target not matter how adorable.
As I was saying, heels became my go to girls and when I finally got the dream job I've always wanted, well wait... partial dream job of working at an art museum I quickly learned the definition of comfortable shoe for this job and heels was not one of them at least not for standing up 7 hours a day on white oak floors and Italian marble. No shoe will ever be comfortable for that but I learned to have to beauty over function.
But it also works as a metaphor always grasping for that comfortable shoe and not quite getting it. So in the end I grab a shoe hoping it will be the comfort I seek for 7 hours of hard floors and most of the time they just don't live up to the hype. I mean I even bought crocs ballet flats. Me wearing crocs? granted they don't look like Crocs but yeah crocs??? All I know is I miss my heels.
What do you do when a man offers you his credit card to purchase his tickets and as you swipe and hand him his receipt to sign, this gentlemen ask, did you swipe it? And you reply yes. He then asks again no, did you swipe IT? a emphasis on it with a double raised eyebrow and a wink. What would you're response be? I know it can't be a loud yell of Guard repeatedly till they whisked him away. Nor would it be to tell him to wash his mouth out with soap and act like a civilized man. Maybe you can get away with a confused look . But mostly you simply grin and pretend that he didn't mean what he just said or that you never quite catch that last part and tell him to enjoy his visit. You then proceed to count down the minutes till you can get home under a steaming hot shower to wash the old dirty man away.
This is my life as a 30 something trying to find her place in the world. Which translates to I move from job to job not finding a career. And never having time to make money off bring an artist. To scared to step it up in my jobs and afraid to start something on my own. How does one move on in the world with out owning responsibility. You can't, so I'm stuck in limbo until I get over my fears and try harder. So this is a diary loosely based on my life, sometimes exaggerated, sometimes wishful thinking. Written in dialogue and in statements or scenarios. Hope its not to confusing and that you laugh and at times think.
