enfinblue's Bluey (credit to Fifi for the nickname!) Diaryland Diary

"I am seeking, I am striving, I am in it with all my heart." -Vinc3nt V@n Gogh

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oh la la la la la la

Please forgive-ez moi maintenant. I think that my sense of humour might be a little bit vapourous.

It was a VERY busy day at work. It was very stressful in the morning, and then it got better in the afternoon. The morning was stressful - it's always stressful when it is busy, I suppose - because that's when people come with you to ask you questions and get you to change stuff that you've done. And you haven't had your coffee yet and you're staring at the people who have been reading a table for the last 20 minutes, trying to get on the same page with them in a few seconds. Focus, EB! Focus, EB!

Fortunately I managed to focus pretty quickly, but one of the largest irritations of my job is that the senior economist has adult ADD. I'm sure of it. The guy is always coming into my office, interrupting me, trying to join in on my meetings with the temporary boss, never shutting up. At lunch, too, he came by in his tight-y running shorts. He always stands there and postures, so I know the message is, "I need to feel that you are looking at me and think that I'm hot, to make myself feel better."

God, it's gross. Please excuse my language but *I'm simply not interested in seeing your nuts at close range.*

I know - language, language, lady. That was not very ladylike of me.

OH my. I'm just so tired. And maybe a little bit grumpy. It's simply because I do find Wednesday nights very trying. I feel very good about working for the charity and know that it is a really good cause of great meaning to me, but because it involves a group of people of various levels of efficiency moving stuff, and it runs from 6 to nearly midnight or even later, I get so tired.

Actually, as I think of it now, I think I probably get tired and a bit annoyed because I don't have control. I'm used to moving with people who are really adept movers and who are also my friends and with whom I can be direct and even critical if need be. With some of these people you have to use the kid gloves, which can be irksome when you have a big job to get done. Tonight we moved about a half dozen sofa beds.

One thing that comes out of my rottenly unstable past in the sense of multiple moves is that I know how to move stuff. I know how to stack stuff in storage to facilitate removal and to not waste space. It's not a skill I'm particularly proud of, but it does come in handy!

Anyhow. I worked until the last minute tonight and then I ran home - in my heels: feat! - and so missed dinner. Also not good.

But no worries - I am now home and eating the last of my chicken. I think I will need a wee 3 oz glass of wine to unwind tonight - not relaxed AT ALL - and then I will go to bed. Days like today are good because one knows that one really put in a good day. It is all good.

Oh, except for the fact that that guy at work whom I mentioned yesterday and who according to the other girl likes me, started emailing me socially today. I really do like this guy and find him to be classy and intelligent, but I'm not going to date a guy who works in a unit so closely aligned to mine. I don't believe in mixing work with dating. Hmm..though as I write this I recall that he mentioned that he is moving to another branch. Maybe that's why he's started emailing me. Hmm...He is rather lovely. The only two things that I could see really holding the thing up is 1) that he is French Canadian; 2) that he is a smoker.

Believe it or not I could deal with someone who was willing to quit smoking, particularly if he was a really good guy and I felt truly committed to creating a better lifestyle with me.

The French Canadian thing is a different problem. I love French Canadians, French Canadian culture. But I find that many of my friends and colleagues alike are very stubbornly resistent to accepting different ways of doing things. This guy, for example, lives on the other side of the river. The community on the other side of the river is really inaccessible in many ways and is not that nice. Living on that side of the river also involves paying much higher taxes. And I don't care what anyone says - the difference is *not* capitalized into the housing prices over here.

I respect French Canadians for taking so much pride in their culture and in their differences. I respect them, too, for choosing to live in Quebec. One of my closest friends ever is a totally irrationally inconsistent Quebec nationalist who yet earns his bread from the Canadian government. You can argue until you're blue in the face and you'll never get him to admit that he's just a plain old garden variety nationalist, that his arguments of rationality in his behaviour combined with his beliefs are as flimsy as toilet paper.

It will never work.

One thing I know that I need in a partner is openness to the "other," to new ideas, to a change of scenery. I offer the same in return. ONe has to be met in the middle. Oh what am I saying? I'm going to take work, baby! :)

OH...I'm so tired. I wish I could eat a big, crusty loaf of bread. Why oh why did wheat have to be taken from me? ;)

Incidentally, thanks for your lovely notes! I will take time to reply to them tomorrow. Actually, boxx, I should say thank you now for your comment. I will post more pics tomorrow. When I go away my lovely friend C, who lives two blocks away, is my reliable plant sitter. He loves administrative/caretaking work so much that he used to do my taxes without my asking him. Not joking about that one. Very funny given my job...

12:07 a.m. - 2008-04-24

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