Daily Emotion

 Oddfellow's Emotion for the Day - 10/12/01

Do I really exist?

Today wasn't about much in particular. Everything seemed to start out as a normal day, as days tend to do. I got up, dressed, packed and left Oxford to get home to Christchurch like nearly every Monday morning. However, it came to me more and more during the day that someone had decided to not let anything work in my favour today.

To start the ball rolling, the day started quite nicely. I drove Kevin to Polytech to let him display his old obsolete computer hardware to an interested tutor, which went nicely. Even the trip to the "has-been parts" computer store went down a treat, with Kevin completing successfully 2 of the 3 things he had intended to do while we were out. My first goal was ro drive all the way accross town to the Refuse Station to throw out numerous piles of old paper and plastic bags that had accumulated in my living room, along with various other pieces of garbage, and the shamefully large stack of Pizza Haven boxes I unwillingly collect. Things were looking up, I couldn't wait to fling the first pizza box like a frisbee into the vast cesspool of human refuse, and find little glass things to biff at the concrete floor and grin satisfied as it shattered into millions of tiny shards at my hand. But after wasting all that petrol to get out there, we were disappointed to see, staring back at us from a mocking chain fence, a large, red "Closed" sign.

Grudginly, I backed up the Beast and headed back from whence I came, with the new intention of stopping at the nearest Mall and buying some groceries (ie. crap). Discovering I had little money and even fewer options as far as groceries went, I slipped out with a 2.25L bottle of Coke only, that would have to do for now. And now, the only thing left on my calender was to meet up with a friend and see her new flat, which pleased me greatly, because I rarely get to see her for more than a half hour at a time. But it was too early, and I had to get Kevin back home as well. So, after taking him home, and waiting a while, I returned to the other side of town to visit her. Through means of miscommunication, that is, me fucking up, I missed her by an hour or so. I waited for a while, but soon felt tired of doing that. I drove back, dejectedly, and waited for her to call, which didn't happen for a while. I explained my situation, too tired and poor to traverse back there for the third time tonight and bid adieu. So that never happened. I guess I did see her flat from the outside, but it's never a "sight" until someone actually shows you around and tells quirky little anecdotes about it. That'll have to wait.

There's nothing really I can do to explain what I've felt like today from just these experiences, but... if I was to sum it up somehow, I'd say, Imagine walking up to every automatic door you encountered, and not having it open for you. It's a kind of "Well... what the hell do I do now?" kind of thing. *sigh* Maybe tomorrow will be better. It had better be.

It's stuff like this that makes psychotics out of people. Just do yourself a favour and never be in the same room as me and cuttlery.

 Quotable Quote:
"That question was less stupid, though you asked it in a profoundly stupid way!" - Professor Farnsworth, Futurama

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