I am becoming obsessive compulsive about all the wrong things. I needed to find something today, but couldn't. Did I look this evening? Of course not. I had three phone calls I should have made today, I made one. I needed to do about six loads of laundry and my apartment needs a serious cleaning. I did two loads and tried to find out some information about some random thing I started looking up the night before. I spent 30 minutes trying to find an article I read a few days ago. I'm a mess.
Tonight, I had a direct plan. Speak to my father between 7-7:30. Start dinner and eat it. Sit down and watch a movie from 8-10, another from 10-12, then one from 12-2. Then go to sleep. I was dead set on this being my evening. I called my father and there was no answer. So I made dinner. I ate dinner and started a conversation online with someone. Next thing I know it's 8:45. I start my movie. My father calls. Now it's well past nine and I'm back to my movie. 11:15, the movie ends and I start a blog. I need to put down some thoughts on the movie. Two hours later, I'm researching a poem in the movie, an artist mentioned and information on the Ottoman Empire, because in my mind, they all play crucial roles in deciphering the movie and help my input on a blog that maybe 10-15 people in the world will ever see.
This is what I have become. I am so tired of the mundane conversations I have on a day to day basis. The every day discussions about nothing. I miss talking about kids and my day with people. I miss telling the funny stories. I share some, but many are lost in translation. My incurable necessity to learn everything about something, so I know more than the next person is making me a bit of a dick, because the reality is, people don't care about facts and figures anymore. They are interested in the topic of the day, then they are done with it, forever. Nothing is absorbed anymore. I'm the same, but my failure is that I can't remember anyones name anymore. I've met people 10 times and lose track of who they are, because it doesn't matter. They aren't in my life, they are window dressing. They are the person of the moments and my topics of the moment don't matter either. I'm obsessed with hearing about things that are new, that open my eyes, but the sad reality is, the conversations that have come about recently are all recycled small talk.
So tonight, my seven hours of planning, boiled down to about three hours of execution and four hours of my striving to know something new, with this morose feeling I'll never have anyone to share it with. Time for bed. Maybe my dreams will allow me to share all my new found ideas.
Tonight, I had a direct plan. Speak to my father between 7-7:30. Start dinner and eat it. Sit down and watch a movie from 8-10, another from 10-12, then one from 12-2. Then go to sleep. I was dead set on this being my evening. I called my father and there was no answer. So I made dinner. I ate dinner and started a conversation online with someone. Next thing I know it's 8:45. I start my movie. My father calls. Now it's well past nine and I'm back to my movie. 11:15, the movie ends and I start a blog. I need to put down some thoughts on the movie. Two hours later, I'm researching a poem in the movie, an artist mentioned and information on the Ottoman Empire, because in my mind, they all play crucial roles in deciphering the movie and help my input on a blog that maybe 10-15 people in the world will ever see.
This is what I have become. I am so tired of the mundane conversations I have on a day to day basis. The every day discussions about nothing. I miss talking about kids and my day with people. I miss telling the funny stories. I share some, but many are lost in translation. My incurable necessity to learn everything about something, so I know more than the next person is making me a bit of a dick, because the reality is, people don't care about facts and figures anymore. They are interested in the topic of the day, then they are done with it, forever. Nothing is absorbed anymore. I'm the same, but my failure is that I can't remember anyones name anymore. I've met people 10 times and lose track of who they are, because it doesn't matter. They aren't in my life, they are window dressing. They are the person of the moments and my topics of the moment don't matter either. I'm obsessed with hearing about things that are new, that open my eyes, but the sad reality is, the conversations that have come about recently are all recycled small talk.
So tonight, my seven hours of planning, boiled down to about three hours of execution and four hours of my striving to know something new, with this morose feeling I'll never have anyone to share it with. Time for bed. Maybe my dreams will allow me to share all my new found ideas.
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