JUST LIKE DAYDREAMING5
When I was younger, I knew what I was suppose to do. I understood I was meant to be a high school history teacher. I lost touch with this ambition because of two things: I spent the majority of my time learning to write and I knew they wouldnt let me teach how I felt history should be taught.
Over a decade has passed since I gave up on being a teacher. Ive thought about it on occasion, I *know* Id be a really good teacher, but what would the point be of putting in all that effort only to be fired? The past couple of months Ive been acutely aware of the need to try and counter all the negativity and ignorance I see in the world but how? Im not a rock star or a politician or anyone else with a high profile. Im just some shmuck who lives in Sacramento. It hit me at work this morning: I was thinking far too big, I need to think smaller. Maybe I cant effect the minds of thousands, but if I can open the minds of a few dozen, then that is something. So, I am ordering my transcripts tonight and will make an appointment to see a counselor at Sac State in the coming weeks.
Ive been good about drinking, mostly sticking to my two drink a night rule. Mostly. On Friday, I had five drinks and four of those were very large glasses of wine. Last night I was feeling restless, I didnt want to sleep, I wanted to keep reading--(Selkirks Island, its about the real Robinson Crusoe. Really good.)--wanted to have another gin and tonic, listen to some more Cat Stevens
What is it with gin? Even if you only have two gin and tonics or martinis you still feel messed up the next day.
You were drinking Pine Sol, Jody, Leigh laughed.
Damn, she is beautiful. Even if she were homely on the outside shed still be gorgeous. Shes not though. She is easily the most attractive woman at Indenture Temps. Has a live in boyfriend, of course. I do know beautiful woman who are single. Time will tell if Im attractive to them. I just have to show some restraint, not be my usual intense, impetuous self.
*You know what we should do? We should go away this weekend, just go on a road trip and get to know each other and Ill show you all these amazing places Ive found and we can play each other our favorite music.*
That would not be wise. Fortunately, I understand that. I didnt always. Ive alienated enough people in my life in that fashion and the pain of losing them has taught me more than mere words ever could.
All the times that Ive cried, keeping all the things I knew inside
Its hard, but its harder to ignore it.
If they were right, Id agree, but its them you know not me
Now theres a way and I know I have to go away, I have to go.
--Cat Stevens
Do they still have the double cream pie special?
Thelmas voice skidding through my gin haze. God, Im out of it. Im caught in the juniper bushes again.
Im hungry, I need some food. Thelma looks troubled. Hey, are you going to Del Taco? Damn, I was thinking about those double decker tacos, the beef kind. I like the special kind with the diced tomatoes and some lettuce and sour cream.
Was she starved as a child? Stole away by pirates and traded for Ding Dongs?
Need a temp that can recite every ingredient in every dish served by every restaurant in a three mile radius? A temp that is always complaining about being hungry? That is so obsessed with food that Dennys has a restraining order filed against them? Call Indenture Temps, we want to be your temporary staffing solution.
I got in trouble for referring to an African-American man as a black man.
Hes the black gentleman with the dark blue tie. I noted he was black because there was a white guy dressed identically.
I got called in the bosss office for that, got a stern dressing down and an order to watch a sensitivity video. What did I do? I mean, if I were of that skin color Id prefer to be called black. Hes not from Africa, after all, hes from Stockton. Says so on his resume.
Chastised, I went to the storage room, scaled the boxes, and did the crouching/sideways walking move I described previously. A bearded man in a suit was standing near the window reading the Koran and moving his lips as if whispering to his god. Was that him? He was on the news a couple of years ago trying to lay his past to rest.
Is that you, Yusuf?
He turned to me with a smile, probably glad I hadnt called him Cat or Mr. Stevens or even Steve.
Thanks for buying my CD, the charities can always use the money.
No problem, C-uhm, Yusuf.
The artist formerly known as Cat Stevens nodded, closed his book, and tucked it in his jacket.
Youre doing the right thing, you know. I am happy for you, finding a way to help the world.
Me, too. Its daunting though.
He walked over and put a hand on my shoulder.
True, but it will be rewarding for you. When I quit music, people shook their heads and wondered why I would do such a foolish thing. I was a rock star! I could have any woman, I was rich, I made my living through my art and so on. But my life was empty before I gave myself to Islam. I am so much happier now; I only wish I had known sooner, I could have had a couple more years of this happiness, this feeling that my life makes sense.
Thats good, I hope I can say that in twenty years.
You will, you want to know something peculiar? He paused, looked reflective as if pulling up a treasured memory that puzzled him nonetheless. I assume a trivia nut such as yourself knows of what led me to Allah, the incident where I nearly drowned. I swore Id devote myself to God if I was spared death and that perfect, little wave carried me to shore. What Ive never told anyone is that, as I lay on the beach gasping and sobbing my thanks, I heard a very small but very clear voice: You are not in control, you are just a guest here.
Climbing back over the boxes, the Bird Lady was watching me from the other side.
Boxes are often used to hold things. Theyre square you know.
Some are rectangular.
She just looked at me as if I had suggested the best feathers are made of lead. Finally, she found her bon mot and lobbed it.
But those are square.
Sos a very small two.
Thats nice.
I make fun of the Bird Lady, but its probably a ruse with her. Her being at this job. All the Cups of Soup. All the painfully obvious observations. The rancid baby powder and urine smell. All a ruse. Shes probably a scientist working for the N.S.A. on something high tech like carbon aerogel. She goes home, greets all 27 cats by name, and then steps into her laboratory and allows the mask of the hapless aging lady slip to the floor like a black negligee.
The radio in the next room is tuned to a non-offensive station. Well, its non-offensive until they play Total Eclipse of the Heart by Bonnie Tyler. Another Journey song?? Did Steve Perrys septum finally collapse? I actually have a secret fondness for Journey. Very secret. I sing their songs in the bath, can nail Lights most of the time. Dont tell anyone, okay?
Theyre celebrating January birthdays today. As Leigh has a January birthday and loves pie, four pies were bought. The Fuck Pixie dropped a folder on my desk with a knowing look. It was a birthday card for the January people. I signed it and gave it back to FP.
Just give it to anyone, I dont think Leigh has signed it.
Leigh is a January birthday, I remember this because I remember reading Aquarius and Sagittarius are good together.
So?
Okay, whatever, here I go dropping the card on Leighs desk.
Someone has pulled the string in Thelmas back and shes talking about some eatery or other. Mr. Ives, wearing a pink and brown western shirt, stands and hitches his thumbs in the waistband of his brown Wranglers.
In my opinion, it is overpriced for a Sacramento restaurant.
This, of course, is the cue for the next performance of I am Older Than Dirt and I Know Everything. Wheres the spot? Is the boy asleep at the light again? No. It is on Tracy. She is selling chocolate bars for her daughters Girl Scout troop or something like that. Thelma nearly tramples a Cambodian man in to fill out an application. Within ten minutes, all thirty chocolate bars are sold.
Drowsy, my mind drifting. Small, tan smudges on the files like the suggestion of blood. After an hour or so I realize what it is. Chocolate. Chocolate fingerprints. The heat from greedy fingers changing the chemical composition of the confection from a solid to a semi-liquid. We too will die and break down eventually, melding with the earth we are entombed in. Returned to nature. From the earth plants will grow, animals will eat the plants, and our descendants will eat the animals only to snack between meals on the charity chocolate bars of the future. I think these things and Mr. Ives turns to me with an expression nearly as old as written language.
You are not in control, you are just a guest here.
When I was younger, I knew what I was suppose to do. I understood I was meant to be a high school history teacher. I lost touch with this ambition because of two things: I spent the majority of my time learning to write and I knew they wouldnt let me teach how I felt history should be taught.
Over a decade has passed since I gave up on being a teacher. Ive thought about it on occasion, I *know* Id be a really good teacher, but what would the point be of putting in all that effort only to be fired? The past couple of months Ive been acutely aware of the need to try and counter all the negativity and ignorance I see in the world but how? Im not a rock star or a politician or anyone else with a high profile. Im just some shmuck who lives in Sacramento. It hit me at work this morning: I was thinking far too big, I need to think smaller. Maybe I cant effect the minds of thousands, but if I can open the minds of a few dozen, then that is something. So, I am ordering my transcripts tonight and will make an appointment to see a counselor at Sac State in the coming weeks.
Ive been good about drinking, mostly sticking to my two drink a night rule. Mostly. On Friday, I had five drinks and four of those were very large glasses of wine. Last night I was feeling restless, I didnt want to sleep, I wanted to keep reading--(Selkirks Island, its about the real Robinson Crusoe. Really good.)--wanted to have another gin and tonic, listen to some more Cat Stevens
What is it with gin? Even if you only have two gin and tonics or martinis you still feel messed up the next day.
You were drinking Pine Sol, Jody, Leigh laughed.
Damn, she is beautiful. Even if she were homely on the outside shed still be gorgeous. Shes not though. She is easily the most attractive woman at Indenture Temps. Has a live in boyfriend, of course. I do know beautiful woman who are single. Time will tell if Im attractive to them. I just have to show some restraint, not be my usual intense, impetuous self.
*You know what we should do? We should go away this weekend, just go on a road trip and get to know each other and Ill show you all these amazing places Ive found and we can play each other our favorite music.*
That would not be wise. Fortunately, I understand that. I didnt always. Ive alienated enough people in my life in that fashion and the pain of losing them has taught me more than mere words ever could.
All the times that Ive cried, keeping all the things I knew inside
Its hard, but its harder to ignore it.
If they were right, Id agree, but its them you know not me
Now theres a way and I know I have to go away, I have to go.
--Cat Stevens
Do they still have the double cream pie special?
Thelmas voice skidding through my gin haze. God, Im out of it. Im caught in the juniper bushes again.
Im hungry, I need some food. Thelma looks troubled. Hey, are you going to Del Taco? Damn, I was thinking about those double decker tacos, the beef kind. I like the special kind with the diced tomatoes and some lettuce and sour cream.
Was she starved as a child? Stole away by pirates and traded for Ding Dongs?
Need a temp that can recite every ingredient in every dish served by every restaurant in a three mile radius? A temp that is always complaining about being hungry? That is so obsessed with food that Dennys has a restraining order filed against them? Call Indenture Temps, we want to be your temporary staffing solution.
I got in trouble for referring to an African-American man as a black man.
Hes the black gentleman with the dark blue tie. I noted he was black because there was a white guy dressed identically.
I got called in the bosss office for that, got a stern dressing down and an order to watch a sensitivity video. What did I do? I mean, if I were of that skin color Id prefer to be called black. Hes not from Africa, after all, hes from Stockton. Says so on his resume.
Chastised, I went to the storage room, scaled the boxes, and did the crouching/sideways walking move I described previously. A bearded man in a suit was standing near the window reading the Koran and moving his lips as if whispering to his god. Was that him? He was on the news a couple of years ago trying to lay his past to rest.
Is that you, Yusuf?
He turned to me with a smile, probably glad I hadnt called him Cat or Mr. Stevens or even Steve.
Thanks for buying my CD, the charities can always use the money.
No problem, C-uhm, Yusuf.
The artist formerly known as Cat Stevens nodded, closed his book, and tucked it in his jacket.
Youre doing the right thing, you know. I am happy for you, finding a way to help the world.
Me, too. Its daunting though.
He walked over and put a hand on my shoulder.
True, but it will be rewarding for you. When I quit music, people shook their heads and wondered why I would do such a foolish thing. I was a rock star! I could have any woman, I was rich, I made my living through my art and so on. But my life was empty before I gave myself to Islam. I am so much happier now; I only wish I had known sooner, I could have had a couple more years of this happiness, this feeling that my life makes sense.
Thats good, I hope I can say that in twenty years.
You will, you want to know something peculiar? He paused, looked reflective as if pulling up a treasured memory that puzzled him nonetheless. I assume a trivia nut such as yourself knows of what led me to Allah, the incident where I nearly drowned. I swore Id devote myself to God if I was spared death and that perfect, little wave carried me to shore. What Ive never told anyone is that, as I lay on the beach gasping and sobbing my thanks, I heard a very small but very clear voice: You are not in control, you are just a guest here.
Climbing back over the boxes, the Bird Lady was watching me from the other side.
Boxes are often used to hold things. Theyre square you know.
Some are rectangular.
She just looked at me as if I had suggested the best feathers are made of lead. Finally, she found her bon mot and lobbed it.
But those are square.
Sos a very small two.
Thats nice.
I make fun of the Bird Lady, but its probably a ruse with her. Her being at this job. All the Cups of Soup. All the painfully obvious observations. The rancid baby powder and urine smell. All a ruse. Shes probably a scientist working for the N.S.A. on something high tech like carbon aerogel. She goes home, greets all 27 cats by name, and then steps into her laboratory and allows the mask of the hapless aging lady slip to the floor like a black negligee.
The radio in the next room is tuned to a non-offensive station. Well, its non-offensive until they play Total Eclipse of the Heart by Bonnie Tyler. Another Journey song?? Did Steve Perrys septum finally collapse? I actually have a secret fondness for Journey. Very secret. I sing their songs in the bath, can nail Lights most of the time. Dont tell anyone, okay?
Theyre celebrating January birthdays today. As Leigh has a January birthday and loves pie, four pies were bought. The Fuck Pixie dropped a folder on my desk with a knowing look. It was a birthday card for the January people. I signed it and gave it back to FP.
Just give it to anyone, I dont think Leigh has signed it.
Leigh is a January birthday, I remember this because I remember reading Aquarius and Sagittarius are good together.
So?
Okay, whatever, here I go dropping the card on Leighs desk.
Someone has pulled the string in Thelmas back and shes talking about some eatery or other. Mr. Ives, wearing a pink and brown western shirt, stands and hitches his thumbs in the waistband of his brown Wranglers.
In my opinion, it is overpriced for a Sacramento restaurant.
This, of course, is the cue for the next performance of I am Older Than Dirt and I Know Everything. Wheres the spot? Is the boy asleep at the light again? No. It is on Tracy. She is selling chocolate bars for her daughters Girl Scout troop or something like that. Thelma nearly tramples a Cambodian man in to fill out an application. Within ten minutes, all thirty chocolate bars are sold.
Drowsy, my mind drifting. Small, tan smudges on the files like the suggestion of blood. After an hour or so I realize what it is. Chocolate. Chocolate fingerprints. The heat from greedy fingers changing the chemical composition of the confection from a solid to a semi-liquid. We too will die and break down eventually, melding with the earth we are entombed in. Returned to nature. From the earth plants will grow, animals will eat the plants, and our descendants will eat the animals only to snack between meals on the charity chocolate bars of the future. I think these things and Mr. Ives turns to me with an expression nearly as old as written language.
You are not in control, you are just a guest here.
debrajean:
yes...just yes...