I took this on facebook tonight:

What does your God/Goddess look like in your head?
Like Santa Claus, but thinner and with better fashion sense.

Are you more messy or more compulsive?
I'm compulsively messy.

What is the happiest day of your life?
There was a night last December that was very nice.

Have you ever had an Out of Body Experience? was it cool?
I don't think I've had one of those. I bet it would be cool, though.

If you could visit with someone who has passed on, who would it be.
My father.

What one thing are you most grateful?
I don't want to say, lest I be called weird.

What disease are you most afraid of?
Anything that might kill me painfully.

Admit it, do you watch soaps or reality tv?
I watch some reality TV.

What is your most beloved piece of music?
I couldn't care less.

If you were filthy rich, which charity would be your choice to help out?
I'd let HatGirl pick for me.

Fav. nurture food.
Maybe a cheeseburger and fries from Polly's Freeze.

If you could go back in time for a day, where and when would you go?
There are lots of good choices. It would be cool to see the Big Bang.

Who is the most interesting person you know?
HatGirl. She is an enigma inside a conundrum inside a mystery.

how many hours of sleep do you need to feel optimal?
Six or so.

Which of your friends crack you up. ?
SneakyGirl is the only person I know who's funnier than I am.

If you could be anyone else for one day, who would it be and why?
Hmmm, I'm not sure it would matter, as long as I was someone besides myself.

Fav. over the counter drug
Sudafed, lately.

fav. thing to collect.?
I guess coasters, because that's the closest I come to collecting anything.

RockGirl emailed me that two girls had just gotten into a fight at her work.

I asked the obvious questions.

"Did they rip each other's blouses open?"

"Did they start making out with each other?"

Her answer to both questions was, "I don't think so."

What a boring chick fight.

Q: What's worse than having an 8:30 meeting?

A: When everyone talks about football before the meeting.

I have this thought, or this theme of interrelated thoughts - something like that - which find its way into the front of my brain every now and then. When there's time. When it sees an opening, a break in the nearly constant barrage of thoughts regarding you-know-who and you-know-what.

It goes like this:

There's something there. Really and truly, and weirdly and unexpectedly, and sneakily and secretly, and wonderfully and scarily, there's something there.

I like it. Nothing will ever come of it, but I like it anyway.

The theme to the last few nights, if I had to pick a single theme, is that I'm supposed to be in Las Vegas. I was supposed to go there in early July, for a contract of at least six months. Despite a lot of unanswered questions and other loose ends here, or maybe because of those things, I was really looking forward to it.

But noooooooooooo!

The potential customer lost their funding, and so I lost my opportunity. Or at least I lost that opportunity.

I've been talking with StupidGirl a lot lately. Two or three times during each conversation, she'll pipe in with, "Dave, you're supposed to be here now!"

And I agree wholeheartedly. And not because of the aforementioned employment opportunity. I'm supposed to be there now.

I'm looking at November. My current engagement ends the first week of that month. Whether they'll want to extend my contract, or perhaps even hire me permanently, I don't know. Of course I'm hoping for further employment. But I think that if I'm going to keep working here I'm going to take a vacation in November. To Las Vegas, for a week or so.

I so need a vacation.

In an effort to keep my slackage from reaching epic proportions, I will now attempt an entry. I don't have a topic in mind, though, so I make no claims as to the readability or interestingness of this entry.

I'm still muddling through, trying to make some sense out of things. Coming up with excuses, basically, for the ways I've been treated and for the ways I've reacted. Sometimes the excuses I make up persist for a while, and sometimes they don't.

I keep trying to manufacture some kind of perception wherein everybody gets to be a good person. I used to try to make it so everybody could get along. I've stopped trying to do that. It was never going to work when I was the only one trying. I'm afraid that the good-person thing is going to fail as well. There's very little recent evidence to back up that particular claim.

I can probably still make it so everybody doesn't hate each other. Maybe.

Damn. It's been two months, as of today.

There are things! And they're happening!

Yay!

That's just about all I can say.

But I wonder, I can't help but wonder, even though I know it's stupid to wonder.

Am I finally awake, or have I merely shifted to a new dream?

What was I supposed to feel, four hours ago?

I ask because it's become quite clear to me that what I actually feel - this is so irrelevant that I'm the only one who even notices it anymore. And even that's only barely.

I ask what I was supposed to feel, because I have no idea.

Relieved? Irritated? Hopeful? Hopeless? Frustrated? Loving? Useful? Useless? Guilty? Happy? Sad? Nostalgic?

Tell me what I was supposed to feel. Is it the same thing as yesterday, when almost the exact same fucking thing happened?

And, while you're at it, tell me what I'm supposed feel right now. Now that it's been four hours.

I go hours and days and weeks. In the past, I've gone months and years. Four hours certainly used to be something, but now it's nothing nothing nothing nothing.

Tell me.

Better yet, reach inside me and place the proper emotions into those empty places wherever you see fit.

My vote, if I'm allowed a vote, is for irritated. I was having a nice afternoon with HatGirl, and the woo-hoos of my phone were a distraction. Ironically, the lack of woo-hoos right now is proving to be a distraction from breathing. But I've been wrong before. I'm probably supposed to be feeling something else entirely.

Tell me what that was supposed to accomplish, and I'll do my best to comply. I've got nothing better to do, after all.