The Return...You Miss Me?

To the three people that read this, I sincerely apologize for my laziness in posting. I had a lot of notable events happen in December, mostly seeing the death of a co-worker about 10 feet in front of me, but I never addressed it. It's a pretty long story, so I don't want to get into it right now. But I'll revisit it soon, because it was something I'll certainly never forget.

So where do I begin? I guess I'll catch everyone up, like a "Lost" summary episode (they show one of these like once a week):

I'm still at my current job. The 18th of this month was my 7 month anniversary. But why am I not, as Bob Kelso would say on "Scrubs," sitting bareassed on the copier? Maybe because the copier machines couldn't support my frame. Maybe because our copier machines malfunction more than a Janet Jackson breast and I wouldn't get a good scan. Or maybe it's because I still hate my job. Probably more so now than ever before. Every Sunday night, like about this time, I dread the end of the day. Because I know I'll have to set foot into that monster for another week. Another week of drama and monotony. Another week of annoying bosses and nosy co-workers.

I guess I really shouldn't complain; while I'm still looking for another job, it's nice to know I have a job to still fall back on. And the work isn't that dreadful; I have finally started to get the hang of things and feel like I'm starting to come into my own. But I guess it's just a combination of everything: the boring work, the high levels of bureaucracy, the idea that I'm not adequately applying everything I've learned (including four years of college) into this. I don't know anymore.

Maybe it's just the idea that the people I work with couldn't work anywhere else. Sure, a lot of them are really smart and talented, and could be anywhere. But it's these other "creatures," I'll call them, that are there. The ones who clearly could never get a job at McDonalds, but have 20 years in where I work. It's sickening to think what people can get away with. Lateness, unprofessional ism, and just overall idiocy. I get disgusted just seeing some of these people: the two 300+ pound men who just look like they've given up and are, gasp, satisfied with their appearance (even though we routinely meet with vendors daily). The people who dress as if "business casual" is just a suggestion, not a rule. But mainly it's just the people who walk in everyday, don't do anything, and nothing comes of it. That's what gets me the worst: this place is so scared of stepping on anyone's toes, that they'll just look the other way when something happens, instead of facing it head on. There has been numerous instances where people have clearly been committing some type of fault, and in any other place, they'd be disciplined and likely fired. Not this fantastic place. They'll just move your desk or brush it under the rug.

That is mainly why I need to get out. I almost feel like Tim Robbins in "The Shawshank Redemption." Not to that extreme (I also don't have that friendly Morgan Freeman-type watching my back either), but I can feel for him. Stuck in a place he sees no way of getting out of. The only way to get out is to do it himself. Make his own destination. And I'm trying, I'm really trying. I know there's light at the end, but it's just really faint right now. But I know it's out there.

What really put everything into perspective was looking my bus passes and ID card two days ago. It was the third item (besides two scarves in about a month) I'd lost, and boy, let me tell you: don't ever lose anything from my company. They make things as easy as getting a prostate exam from a prison guard with rough skin. My entire day was spent shuffling back and forth trying to get replacement cards and passes. I had my February bus pass in there, because who ever thinks you'll lose this stuff? But when you break that routine once, I'm telling you, it screws everything up. Long story short: I probably have to buy new passes, at a great price of $173! Because NJ Transit could care less how you lose them; they just want to make sure you get new ones. Gee, life is great.

But back to the job. Other times it's like "Scrubs." That may just because I love that show to no end and can quote it like some can quote the Bible, but I really think they're related. While the building I work in isn't a hospital, it has a lot of the same recurring themes. The attractive staff (well at least some of them). Gossip about the new people who get hired. Interesting "patients." A mentor-type figure we all have (for me, it was that one guy who recently passed, but now it's this kindhearted Palestinian father of four who sits behind me). But really it's about me, my close female friend (we'll just call her Eliot to keep things Scrubs-related) and Turk (same thing). Between those two, it keeps me at least half sane. I've had a lot of fun times with them. With Eliot, I can joke around with her about our mutual disdain for the job (she has a similar feeling) and our mutual love for her boss (who happens to be male, I guess it can be called a "man crush"). With Turk, on the other hand, we can talk about weightlifting, and then laugh about seeing our effiminate boss talking on his cellphone in the wind screaming "It's really windy out here" as it looks like his 20 lb. body is about to be lifted into the current. When I do leave (not if), it'll be sad to leave them behind, if they're still there. But sometimes, you just can't look back. Who am I? I guess J.D. But I can see a lot of myself in the other people too. It's amazing how much art can imitate life.

But really why I want to get out the most is because my heart just isn't in it. I know I could give more of myself to this job, and if I liked it, I would. But I really am just to the point where I do enough to get by and leave. Why should I put more time into this if I don't care? I'm to the point where when my boss comes down on me, I just shake it off and could care less. I try to create the illusion of being bulletproof, but it's really just not caring. My co-workers are astounded by my unflappableness (if that's a word...spellcheck begs to differ), but I don't want to let anyone see me sweat. I don't want them to get the benefit that they've gotten to me. I want to show them I won't buckle under pressure, like a lot of other people there.

I guess I mainly am just depressed because my entire life seems to be just in a holding pattern. Professionally, I think I have expressed that quite clear enough. Romantically...it's as bare as the rainforest will be in 30 years. Any chances/potential I've had, nothing's come of it. My most recent missed field goal (also see how many sports references I can make) was with this girl I met a few months ago. She was a secretary with a company I dealt with daily. I talked to her a few times and always felt like there was some chemistry there. Finally, after mustering up enough courage to ask her out (on company time no less), it never happened. Missed calls and chances flew by, until I called her back later in 2007. Now, I guess I should mention I've never met this girl or even know what she looks like. I just know her name. And since I subtly can't just ask her "So, by the way, do you look like Jessica Alba in Maxim, or do you have more of a Rosie O'Donnell thing going on," I just have to take my chances. I figure why not. I have nothing to lose. Unfortunately, our date that was supposed to happen never did (as she was away on another "vacation"). I don't think it's an excuse, because she still seems genuinely interested. But I can't wait. I have to keep looking. At this point in my life, it's all about taking chances. And at 22 and 3/4 years old, I'd really like for something to happen.

My dream over the next 6 months is for the following things to happen:

• Move out by the summer. I just can't stand living at home anymore. I'm not charged rent and get meals and laundry, like college, but it's just becoming too taxing anymore. Getting into the city is too much of a pain in the ass from here, even though I'm not that far. And I just need to have my own space. I want to be able to be on my own, like college. But...
• If I switch jobs and take a paycut, that won't be happening. That's what I worry: am I willing to bite the bullet now for something I want long term?
• Find "the one," or at least the "for now". I guess this is a never ending problem my friends and I have: we're all great guys, but just have no luck with the ladies. We're no "Rat Pack" I guess, but we're definitely no "Mutants from Table 9" either (two points to someone who knows what movie that's from). I know it's all about going out there and being proactive, but it's not as easy as Vince Vaughn makes it out to be. And women certainly don't make things easier, either.
• Be happy. I am not miserable, but I'm not giddy with delight. Hopefully if the above bulleted points happen sooner rather than later, I will be. But for now, I guess I'm just complacent (there I am using that word again).

Ok, that's enough for now. I really am going to make a conscientious effort to write at least 3 times a week, if not more. I won't say it's a New Year's Resolution (because anyone who makes them breaks them anyway...might as well be, "What I plan to not do this year"), but it's a hope.