I do. And I'm not referring to a low-interest savings account.
I mean those round, plasticky things that you stick in a device and get music in return. Those things.
Buying a CD is a labor of love. Not only do you shell out your hard-earned cash for it, there's manual labor involved once you get it to the car (waiting til I get home is never an option). First you look it over, looking for any obvious weak spots in the plastic wrapping. Of course there aren't any, so you try opening it with your nails, keys, teeth...anything sharp enough to tear through one of the corners. This is especially tricky if you've purchased the "Deluxe" edition that cost extra because it came in a cardboard case and has 4 extra tracks. Obviously, you don't want to damage your brand-new cardboard investment.
Once you've managed to wrestle the plastic off, the real fun begins. The plastic is a tease, a transparent lie that allows you to see the object of your desire. Once it's off you remember that the darn thing is still sealed shut because someone decided that adding a sticker that is practically permanently affixed to the case itself was a good idea. I hope I never meet that person. I don't know what I would do to him or her, but glaring will be involved. I mean, really? A sticker that takes great amounts of patience and skill to detach? It doesn't come off in one clean piece either, it rips and breaks up into a dozen tiny pieces that you can't get off your fingers. And you pick, and you peel, and you pray, and you curse, and you plead until you get it all off...and realize that the piece you just removed was a 'pull' tab that quite possibly could have given you 10 minutes of your life back.
But was it worth it? For your sake, I hope so.
I've taken longer hours at Job #2, mostly eliminating Job #1. I'll be doing things here and there for a few hours, but that's it. Right now I definitely have enough to keep me occupied at Job #2, which will be referred to as "my job" from here on out. Anyway, it's only Tuesday and mentally, I'm beat. It's been a long time since I've sat in front of a computer for 7 hours straight. The irony in this is that obviously, I'm writing to you from a computer.
Look, I have big, unruly hair! And it's parted on the side! I'm really living on the edge, aren't I?
Today I caught myself lamenting the fact that I don't get many texts/phone calls/Facebook messages/personal email. What?! It was so strange...I actually missed being Miss Social Butterfly. I haven't cared to interact with anyone but my closest friends and family (and not even all of my family) since I've been home. Part of that was because I was still in shock over not having the option to have friends or family for so long.
Could it be that I'm starting to really recover from my isolation? I'm gregarious by nature but that was squashed right out of me. I can feel it coming back...I know that my anxiety will probably never fully go away, but I hope the fear of people does. It's kind of scary and exciting at the same time, and explains the weird mood I've been in the past couple of days.
I should probably tell my therapist.
I mean those round, plasticky things that you stick in a device and get music in return. Those things.
Buying a CD is a labor of love. Not only do you shell out your hard-earned cash for it, there's manual labor involved once you get it to the car (waiting til I get home is never an option). First you look it over, looking for any obvious weak spots in the plastic wrapping. Of course there aren't any, so you try opening it with your nails, keys, teeth...anything sharp enough to tear through one of the corners. This is especially tricky if you've purchased the "Deluxe" edition that cost extra because it came in a cardboard case and has 4 extra tracks. Obviously, you don't want to damage your brand-new cardboard investment.
Once you've managed to wrestle the plastic off, the real fun begins. The plastic is a tease, a transparent lie that allows you to see the object of your desire. Once it's off you remember that the darn thing is still sealed shut because someone decided that adding a sticker that is practically permanently affixed to the case itself was a good idea. I hope I never meet that person. I don't know what I would do to him or her, but glaring will be involved. I mean, really? A sticker that takes great amounts of patience and skill to detach? It doesn't come off in one clean piece either, it rips and breaks up into a dozen tiny pieces that you can't get off your fingers. And you pick, and you peel, and you pray, and you curse, and you plead until you get it all off...and realize that the piece you just removed was a 'pull' tab that quite possibly could have given you 10 minutes of your life back.
But was it worth it? For your sake, I hope so.
I've taken longer hours at Job #2, mostly eliminating Job #1. I'll be doing things here and there for a few hours, but that's it. Right now I definitely have enough to keep me occupied at Job #2, which will be referred to as "my job" from here on out. Anyway, it's only Tuesday and mentally, I'm beat. It's been a long time since I've sat in front of a computer for 7 hours straight. The irony in this is that obviously, I'm writing to you from a computer.
Look, I have big, unruly hair! And it's parted on the side! I'm really living on the edge, aren't I?
Today I caught myself lamenting the fact that I don't get many texts/phone calls/Facebook messages/personal email. What?! It was so strange...I actually missed being Miss Social Butterfly. I haven't cared to interact with anyone but my closest friends and family (and not even all of my family) since I've been home. Part of that was because I was still in shock over not having the option to have friends or family for so long.
Could it be that I'm starting to really recover from my isolation? I'm gregarious by nature but that was squashed right out of me. I can feel it coming back...I know that my anxiety will probably never fully go away, but I hope the fear of people does. It's kind of scary and exciting at the same time, and explains the weird mood I've been in the past couple of days.
I should probably tell my therapist.
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