So for the first time in my adult life I have a weekend. The same one most people have. Starting last week my off days became Saturday and Sunday. I have been Tuesday and Wednesday since I transferred to this position in late summer 2015. But what has changed? Nothing really. I just don’t turn my work computer on a couple different days than I used to. But I’m still stuck here at home alone, no one to see, or talk to, or hang out with. Just me inside my house, doing the same nothing I do every day.
Well I’m changing it up a little tonight, writing this while sitting on my deck. I did some garage organizing yesterday and found my bag chairs. This I s something I’ve not done in more than five years, dating back to the last time I owned a house and we’d sometimes sit out on the deck late at night, talking, taking in the sounds. So far it’s still some explosions, though not nearly as many as the past two nights. Maybe everyone has finally exhausted their fireworks supplies. I can also tell if I’m going to do this very much I’ll need to get some sort of insect repellent or I’m going to get eaten up.
I was thinking about this constant state of aloneness. I was recalling how one of the girls who used to work at the Watering Hole messaged me a couple months ago to inform me she was serving at a different restaurant these days. I’m not really comfortable yet going to a sit-down place. I see how people act these days (no mask, no distancing) and I don’t want to get caught up in getting or giving a fatal disease. It’s expanding again in my area because people aren’t taking things seriously. I haven’t been to the Watering Hole since mid-February. I was boycotting for awhile because I felt my service wasn’t very good. When I was about ready to return, when big NCAA basketball stuff was about to kick in, everything shut down. They are open, at least for pickup, maybe more. But I haven’t considered a dine-in place since this kicked in. I’ve picked up a pizza a couple times, gone through some burger drive-thrus occasionally. I’m cooking at home more, really for the first time. It may be some frozen stuff, like some burritos or pizza or corn dogs. I have started cooking more though. Making soft tacos, spaghetti, grilled cheese-egg sandwich, other things. I’m no chef, and do miss going out to eat, but I’ve also been glad to do some of this more. Still, it’s hard to cook for one. If I make something like spaghetti or tacos, it’s guaranteed to be worth about four meals.
Anyway, before I got sidetracked with cooking and stuff, I’d mentioned the girl who contacted me. I thought about contacting her recently, but then I got to thinking about things. The fact she contacted me to tell me where she’s working and to come see her and hasn’t tried again in two months tells me it probably wasn’t me she was interested in seeing, but my tip. I backed away from initiating anything because, when I first knew her a year ago, she had a boyfriend. She doesn’t need some old man bugging her if that’s still the case, which it probably is. I’ve thought about that a lot, how nearly every woman I know is involved. They don’t need me bugging them. So I don’t initiate things with people, instead waiting for the call that will never come.
But I see things, things that infuriate me. I was leaving the store yesterday. I was about to back out of my space when another car barreled in to park on the row behind me. A guy gets out, goes to the passenger door, flings it open and tells his companion to “get out of the f*ing car.” She delayed and he told her again, more forcefully. Then they walk up to the store. Besides the display I’d just seen from him I got another clue about how much of an asshole he is. She was wearing a mask; he wasn’t. Yet that is the kind of guy women gravitate to, not the responsible one who wouldn’t dream of treating her that way.
So here I sit on my deck, listening to the neighborhood explosion rate increase, wondering why life has to be so lonely. Is it really a life that way? There is so much I want to talk about, to hear about, hold someone, be held, but no one is interested in my company. I’m certainly not important. So I sit alone. Every night. With only the demons in my head talking , reinforcing my worth. They aren’t good conversation though.