Old Soul Syndrome |ONC 2020|

February 1, 2020

Sometimes I wonder why I still bother to put anything down in here. Habit, I guess. I've been keeping a journal since I was thirteen. It seemed a lot more exciting then. A private place for my oh so important thoughts and a secret to keep from my three younger brothers. 

If anything, it was always fun finding a new hiding place. Especially if I caught one of them snooping and could give myself an excuse to yell at whichever one it was.

Now it's just like a tic I can't control. I brush my teeth, put on my pj's and write in my journal—reliable as clockwork and twice as boring.

Maybe I do it on the off-chance something exciting will actually happen. I like this reason a lot better. It sounds like opportunity.

Ugh, now I'm getting poetic. Maybe I should just get down to actually cataloguing the day.

A car wreck on Easton and Main made me ten minutes late. By the time I got the report of the crash, I was already stuck in the resulting jam. So of course when I finally got to the building, parking was almost impossible.

It's a good thing I've mastered the rare and painful art of running in heels. Despite the evidence of my dedication and sincere apology dripping down my face, Ron still told me off. Why he has to be such an impossible jerk, I don't know. The theory around the office is wife number three isn't working out so great. My personal theory is that Ron's just a dick. Which could also explain why wife number three isn't working out so great.

And now I'm honestly starting to bore myself. In the off chance that anyone finds this after I die (and actually reads this far) I just want to offer an apology. I know I've said this somewhere before, but life just isn't all that exciting any more. Especially not my life.

At least, not here in 21st century America when you're lucky enough to have a steady paycheck. There's no inspired revolution, very limited ways to get out into the world to test your courage. It's all very bland.

And now I'm maudlin and boring.

Maybe I should just stop here for tonight...

Lilli threatened to quit. Again. I think she just says that to see how I'll react. She's one of the few people I actually like going out with after work, so I always make sure to act very distressed by the idea.

There's no way she'd ever actually quit. Not with two kids and an absentee husband.

The only true thing of note to happen today was that we had a different delivery guy. 

He was sort of strange. Really quiet. Not exactly shy, I don't think, just sort of unassuming. Like he didn't expect me to notice him. After signing for the packages he'd brought in, I'd asked him if Keith was sick while praying that he had quit his job. Or moved to Florida. Or been arrested.

I expect he'll be back with his creepy 70's porn star mustache and his nasty pick-up lines by Monday, but I can always hope, right?

The new guy stared at me like I'd just spoken in Mandarin. It was the first time he'd actually looked at me, and his face went sort of pale, his eyes getting very large. He had very pretty eyes—green with just a dash of gold and brown specks. He'd licked his lips, which I'm not ashamed to say had given me all sorts of wonderful, terrible ideas, and shrugged.

"Dunno," he said. "I'm just a temp." Then he grinned, obviously getting over his initial bout of shyness. "Lucky me."

It had been so long since I'd actually flirted with someone that I didn't know what to say. Eventually, I just ended up saying something like I hoped he would stick around. Ugh. Even now I'm blushing to the roots of my hair.

It surprised me when he said, "I don't think so. I've got some other places to be." Then he'd looked at me—and I mean really looked at me. In a way that made my stomach flip over and made my eyes go right to his ridiculously tempting mouth again. "Don't you?"

All I could do was stand there and blink like an idiot!

Probably because I am an idiot. Honestly, I should be over at his place, finding out just what he can do with that perfect mouth, not sitting here writing to myself like an oversized dork.

"No," I blurted, before very promptly turning around and scurrying back to the desk.

He'd lingered for a moment longer, maybe hoping I would show some sign that I wasn't a hopeless case. When I'd just glued my eyes to my computer screen, he'd frowned, looking severely disappointed.

He wasn't the only one.

Maybe tomorrow I won't be so stupid. 

Maybe tomorrow night I won't be sitting here in my bed, alone.