|:: HOME :: GET EMAIL UPDATES :: Surration :: Starting Over :: Peephole in my Skull :: TaerKitty :: Rando :: One Word :: EMAIL ::|
Read/Post Comments (0)
Hello, I am YFAT or Lo. I have been writing on Journal Scape for eight years now, working on my ninth. How the time flies! This journal chronicles my random thoughts, high moments and sometimes low, throughout high school, college, and now beyond, into the world of "adulthood", whatever that means.
2008-06-20 3:58 PM
Yellow hat, white hair, tan coat, black slacks, black socks, black shoes. Old man keeps staring at me as though I am some sort of new found wonder as he ocassionally flips through his magazine and I attempt to disguise that I am too am watching in these last minutes of work as I scribble on this green piece of note scrap card longer than is normal with a bright orange pen that a woman was fond of, who loves Nicholas Sparks and struck up a short conversation with me that I am starting to realize are necessary to have here.
I'm just a library lady in a library land checkin' out books and lending you a hand.
So yeah, I was mildly fascinated by the man's bright yellow hat on such a conservative old-person style. I think it was crotched, probably out of some heavy weight acrylic yarn.
I think I'm only comfortable doing these observations when I find myself to be the only one at the desk. It has to be me and the stillness and the people and not busy. It's good to excersize my writer a bit and my love of people watching. Kind of meditative and interesting.
Yesterday I didn't have the time to do observations as I was stuck in the back most of the time typing and making my wrist say "What the fuck maaan?!" Later the hip and back put in their bits as well. Grr body.
Anyway more on today. I felt a lot more comfortable there though I realized I absolootly loathe phones and talking because I pretty much suck at listening without the thing in front of me. I have nothing to go with a phone, nothing to derive an image from and I like "holy shit! Oh ma ghaz! Words! No pictures! Shit!" I loathe talking because I just suck at it. I talk too fast and I don't trust my mouth all that much as it is the mostly likely of my body parts to not get the memo from my brain. Oh yeah, and there's no backspace, erase, scribble out, delete or paint over with talking. Urgh. I guess some people dig that, candidness. I don't. I mean I dig it when I'm like...around friends and they expect it but in a professional setting it can be a pain. So if the speech isn't hurried it's slow and awkward. But I'm getting better...sort of. Just takes work and more thought than it does from my hands.
No wonder why some people are non-vocal....it's fuckin' complex to talk.
Oh it was cool at work too because I got a name tag today, just says "STAFF" but it's bronze and a cool magnetic work up and kind of made me feel awesomely official. My stomach jumped in my throat when the supervisor gave it to me and my eyes probably expanded slightly larger than normal.
Yeah, it was a good day at work today.
Now I'm home, shoes off, room clean(scary clean....I can see my floor....all of it...and I'm typing on a made bed right now), grooving to my new Jason Mraz cd and probably about to plunge back in to a Tamora Pierce book.
Well I'm out.
Pahace. (peace said in my gangsta style)
Read/Post Comments (0)
Previous Entry :: Next Entry
Back to Top
© 2001-2010 JournalScape.com. All rights reserved.
All content rights reserved by the author.