Random Thoughts

Life has been rather hectic of late. The new position at work has been rather challenging and I'm ready to run screaming from the building. It's not what I'd imagined and I've spent the past several weeks dreading going into work. I haven't felt this horrible about a job for a long long time.











Embarassing moment at work last week:
I had meetings in Northern Virginia and a very kind finance manager offered to give me a lift down there since he was going to the same meetings. I was relieved because I loathe driving to our VA office. The DC traffic makes me insane. I generally book a hotel room and drive down the night before just to avoid being a stressed out mess from sitting in grid lock....so...at 5:30 am I'm at the work parking lot in crunchy good Granolaville. Bored out of my skull I grab my iPod/headset and exit The Battle Beetle. I crank up the volume and do a trapese act walking along the white parking space lines, wobbling ankles, arms outstretched I trundle along-oblivious to everything except my balance and the blasting tunes. Suddenly "C'Mon an Ride the Train" by the Quad City DJs comes chuggin' through the headset and I bust a move, layin' some wicked Bea dance moves through the empty lot (Sher and Sara can attest to my wicked groove having witnessed it several years ago live and in person). I'm slingin' my guns, doin' the train chigga chigga chigga chigga- having a blast in my own bass boosted planet-who the frig is gonna see me? It's like 5:30 am and ain't nobody in this neck of the woods 'cept da BeaMeista getting funky-no worries-right? My dress coat is flapping in the breeze, I'm feeling confident because I'm dancing in heels and Christina Aguliera's "Dirty" (the extended Tracey Young radio edit version) blisters my ears, I sing along thinking I can harmonize to Ms A's voice (yeah right)...
gonna get my girls...
getch yer boys (throw out right arm and point to invisible crowd at the other end of the parking lot)...
gonna make some noise...
gonna get rowdy (flip head)...
gonna get a little UN-RULY (kick-ball-change right leg-OH YEAH-CAN I GET AN AMEN?)...
get fired up in a hurry (left-ball change with attitude)...
Gonna get dirty, it's about TIME (flip head with gusto)...

I feel the need to dash (in a gazelle-like fashion) through the deserted parking lot pretending I'm in my own special music video. Lookin' cool, feelin good, got rhythm (or at least my semblence of rhythm which could in fact be mistaken for someone having a seizure I suppose) and I spin (ala Michael Jackson in his 80's apex) to my horror, there sits The Pirate (finance manager) in his vehcile staring at me like I've lost my mind. SHIT! NAILED with no place to hide. You see he'd called me before I got out of my car to tell me he'd be late in picking me up so I figured I had a bit of time to fuck around in the parking lot and twit that I am lost track of time. No graceful way out of this one. Embarassed dash to the passenger door, open it and mumble incoherent response to, "Were you dancing in the parking lot?"-for the next hour I wish for a quick and painless death because not only do I have to sit through an entire day of meetings with this man (turned into a 12 hour day by the way) I then have to ride back with him-yeah I know how to make an impression all right.

I've also been having strange longings to bear a child. I find this unnerving because I've never wanted children. I have no idea what the frig my problem is. Am losing sleep and have started the waking at 3 am routine again.

Been giving thought to moving to New Jersey to be closer to baby sister Kel and brother-in-alcohol John. I find I get lonely easily even with the company of Jack the Wonder Kitten. I don't really have any friends in Columbia, although I have managed to quasi of befriend The Pirate primarily because Chowda (before he moved on) asked me to look after him. Although after my Flashdance routine in the parking lot the other morning I have some doubts about kindling any form of friendship.