After three years of working here, the building is now going to accommodate bikes. I don't have much to say about that, this building is behind the times, what can you do? But the first thing I do is tell the building I'm interested. Mind you, if I'm really gonna quit at the end of the year, I have to give notice early next week.
These mental games I play with myself are sickening. So I'm not gonna quit now because I can lock my bike in the building? That's basically what the logic distills down to. Teeny tiny psychological pebble in the road. The reason why this is disturbing is that this is how I treat my life.
In April 1997, I was going day to day identifying why I would live to the next, and it just got really stupid, like well, Throwing Muses is playing, and I have to return this overdue library book and pay the fine, or I have to pick up photos from the darkroom. Mind you, none of these, except maybe seeing Throwing Muses, was good enough a reason.
So I'm not gonna quit? I'll stay until I get laid off, probably early next year as the economy tanks? I won't get the dignity of quitting, but I'll get unemployment.
I will also live a long life, and in my 80's I will be alone and destitute because of my inability to get into and/or maintain relationships, and because I didn't have a 401K and didn't invest wisely, and I won't have health insurance because I never cared to look into it, and I won't have teeth because I never go to a dentist, and I'll be in a wheelchair because of the numerous knee and back ailments that went untreated, and I'll be near blind because of the all the time I spent staring into the sights of the sun, not realizing that Bruce Springsteen was being figurative!!.
November 14, 2002; 8:39 A.M. - Bay Bridge while riding to work.
