There’s so much going on in the world, with my friends, in my life, and in my head. Too much stimuli, and no clear way of processing all of the information being sent my way. Yes, much of it is my own damn fault. Work is insanely busy (which is A Good Thing™), I’m dating (which is An Interesting Exercise In Futility™), and I’m also just really emotionally and physically drained (which is An Exasperating Experience™).

All of this is just background, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. Maybe it is just emotional stage props, setting the scene. Or maybe I’m just talking out loud, to myself, which happens more often than I like to admit.
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Life is around you and in you
Answer for Timothy Leary, dearie
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Lately I have been participating in life, but not really living. There’s some sort of hold placed on my brain, heart, and soul – the where and why for I cannot figure out. (Has my emotional credit run dry?) A part. Apart. But not of. But not IN.

Some of my social awkwardness has come back – I want to fit in, but don’t know how. At the same time, I don’t want to find some small part where I can finagle my way in, to just be; I want to create my own path. And the two sides are fighting. The yin wants to kill the yang. A game of tug-o-war between two dogs, and I’m the rawhide bone.

Maybe some of my exhaustion is coming from a battle, a game. A game played where I am not only the home team, but also the away team; the interloper. The underdog that many fans boo and hiss at (but most secretly love). You know, the enemy.
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Anyway, most of my recent disconnect has come from the shit I do that ensures I can eat and keep a roof over my head day-to-day life. We have recently outsourced some of our departmental processes to an external provider. (They truly are a great group of people.)

In business, and in life, we have to learn the twisted choreography of a budding relationship. At work we have bypassed that awkward first-date stage, the uncomfortable first kiss, and have now moved on to … yes, we have reached third base! This week we had the first happening of the hand-under-the-shirt phase getting-to-know-you-get-together, which was bowling. And for the record?

I suck at bowling.

Seriously. Children can at least hit a pin. Just one measly pin! Even the ones who can’t walk yet. They can sit there, at the line in their diapers, and softly push a tennis ball and hit SOMETHING! Me? Er, not so much.

After the 5^th gutter-ball that I threw (within my first 5 turns) my oh so compassionate teammates decided to program into the little score-keeper-thingie that when it was my turn to maim unsuspecting bystanders with a neon orange ball from hell take my turn, it would automatically turn on the bumpers.

Was I embarrassed? Of course, just a bit. (That whole “apart from” dynamic.) Did I laugh along with everyone else? Damn right I did. (That whole “a part of” feeling.) Even after my boss said to me, “wow, I really thought you would be better at this”, I still laughed.

But it added to the static already playing in my psyche.
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Silence
Tells me secretly
Everything
Everything
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I may not be smart, but I ain’t stupid. I can see when the tide ebbs, and when it flows. But just because I see it, or feel it, that doesn’t mean I will comment on it.

I’ll just observe.
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These past few weeks have been full of bullshit normal day-to-day living:

* A friend passes away
* Planes crash
* I go on a date
* The news makes me cry
* People lose their homes
* Others make mountains out of molehills
* I find out that even though some people are really great, they make for horrible kissers
* Another friend dies too much, too young, too soon. I weep some more
* One of my nearest and dearest has a pre-term labour scare (she and the babies, thankfully, are doing well)
* More friends lose their jobs
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This week I walked a razor’s edge – the mental image of tearing down my cube walls and beating the shit out of a printer gave me a momentary respite.

In those many short-lived moments, I imagined what life would be life in the aftermath. In those small seconds? I danced.
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Today, when I left the office, I had my ipod on shuffle and blaring into my ears. The sun was shining when I left work (okay, really? When DOESN’T it shine here in Southern California?) and although I didn’t actually dance to my car, I did skip. Just a little bit. (Okay, maybe I didn’t skip. But I think I may have done a little bootie shake.)

For some reason, this song was on replay in my grey matter. And it was one of the first songs that the ever psychic music player chose to play. And?

I decided to let it in …