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Yesterday was a good day. Picked up art work. It’s always cool how framing a poster makes it looks so wonderful. Then off to a pinball party. Crazy people. Wonderful hostess and home. Strange conversations. Things lost in the trees. Boy do I wish I had a camera for that one. Penn State fans. Weird food from all the cities mentioned in the game “Road Show”. Board games. Pinball machines. Anger. Yelling. Swearing. Door slamming. Then back to partying. Poker playing. Took a nap while they played… Drove home. Too many deer. Too many critters… All safe back home.
But now, it’s the Sunday Blues. Gota’ go back to work. Hate my job. Anxious of being shown up or passed by or just seen as old and inflexible. Sigh…
Ciao
Ah to shout in the wilderness and never be heard. Pretty much sums up my life lately. Get up go to work. Work. Work. Work. Come home and get something to eat for us. Get ready for work. Go to sleep. Do it all over again. Not really a bad life. I should be grateful. We have our health. We have jobs. blah blah blah… But after a while it just all makes me very tired.
Guess I’m depressed. Tired to the soul. No excitement. No passion. But I think that’s the fate of every middle aged matron. To be invisible. To hold the world up with the help of the other invisible worker bees. The sad part is I just don’t have the energy to make a change. It would have to be a major leave-them-standing-run-away change for anything to matter. All the little things have added up. They all sound trivial in the midst of the economy, 9/11, war, flooding etc.
I’d like to watch tv with a clear picture and uninterrupted sound. I’d like my SO to cook me a meal instead of saying, “I’ll just have whatever you are having”. I’d like to be noticed, like when over 6″ of hair is cut off and I am suddenly all curly, for someone to notice and say “You got your hair cut”. Silly things.
I’m pretty much a worker bee. No hope of promotions. No hope of anyone noticing and saying hey we need to recognize her for the work she does. You are in charge of your own destiny. Bah. You get to make decisions with what you are presented with. Not suddenly say “hey, I’m a princess and give me a million dollars”. Or for that matter understand the proper use of quotes.
So many promises never met or meant.
Ciao
Thoughts of an Old Fart 