I’m almost certain that the only thing I’ve really learned from working here is how generally lonely people are. A young woman came down from her unit at 1:30 in the morning, handed me a cup of coffee, sat and talked with me about aspirations and dreams for roughly 30 minutes. About half way through my cup of coarse ground french roast, she began to weep. Frankly, I’m not the best person to have around when things start to get emotional but I felt the least I could do is offer some tissues and a shoulder. When she finished she looked me in the eyes, gave an apologetic nod, fumbled for her keys, stood up, and walked back to the muffled chirp of the elevators. Perhaps she was drunk or just ended a particularly significant relationship but regardless, I sat and watched as this woman slowly collapsed into tears. Strikingly humbling albeit jarringly strange instances like these simply reiterate the fact that companionship, no matter what form, is an important piece of life. A fact that I seem to take for granted. I think I’m going to try to change that. It’s a strange realization to come about at 2:40 in the morning but a important one nonetheless. Meh, it’s a new day and I have to go on my rounds.

RANDO THOUGHTS*

1. To be perfectly frank, attempting to find a job in Seattle is a cluster-fuck.
2. I’m about 23 pages in to Never Let Me Go and pretty much ready to let it go.
3. I need to be more charming.
4. I need to complain less.
5. I need to have fun more.
6. I wish I could have fun more.
7. I’m tired of my schedule.
8. I don’t know how candid I should be in this stupid thing.

*Placed in all caps for increased emphasis! In other words, these thoughts are very random.

Note to future self:

If you somehow find a woman who appreciates this song half as much as you do; marry her.

Funny #001

There is a woman here who can not walk in high heals properly. This is funny.

A List Of Impossible Possibilities!

I could be:

1. Out with friends and various other people I care about more than the rich and/or drunk fucktards I have to deal with while working the graveyard shift on a FUCKING SATURDAY NIGHT!
2. Eating cupcakes.
3. (See above).
4. Attempting to seduce women (unsuccessfully).
5. Drunk.
6. Visiting my grandmother.
7. At home.
8. Walking the hound.
9. Walking with my friends.
10. Walking by myself.
11. SLEEPING.
12. Planning a party.
13. Not planning a party.
14. Gardening.
15. Not gardening.
16. Having a catch.
17. Watching a movie.
18. Painting my room.
19. Cleaning something.
20. Restoring an old bicycle, not out of necessity, just out of coolness.
21. Finding other jobs.
22. Counting how many licks it takes to get to the center of a tootsie-pop (I guess I could be doing this one here, but sadly have no access to tootsie-pops. Fucking typical).
23. See 4 (Successfully)!
24. At the late night DMV.*

Yet, I am here. Literally waiting until seven o’clock in the morning. Which I then must depart to my other job in customer service.

It should be a fun day tomorrow.**

*Late night DMV may not be an actual place but I’m pretty sure it is so whatever.

** Just Kidding.

"Phoenix Jones is a fucking joke."

Me (circa 2012)

Credit

"Quite certain this is a bad idea."

Me (circa: 2012)

Free time docket:

1. Listen to Radiolab. A lot of Radiolab.
2. Browse the internet.
3. Intermittently help tenants (maybe).
4. Fart.
5. Drink coffee and experiment with how many cups it takes to induce a caffeine coma.
6. Master the art of flicking the outside of my cheek in order to simulate the sound of water hitting the floor.
7. Get my co-worker to try it.
8. Drink Five Hour Energy.
9. Try not to fall asleep.
10. Leave.

Pre-Hell / Night One

Tonight is a night of firsts! The first night I’ve ever consumed the bile inducing chemical mish-mash that is Five Hour Energy. The first night I exhaust myself from 11:00pm to 7:00am, and the first night I journey into (*pause, take deep breath*) the fetid depths of the universally undesired and socially reprehensible realm of the graveyard shift. But you know what, it don’t matter; I need the money to move out of my parent’s house.

As much as I love free cereal and subtle yet unnervingly direct passive aggression (both products of living with the folks), it is time for me to kick proverbial rocks. So because of this simple fact, I sacrifice both my beloved sleep schedule and my already lackluster social life (see: lives at home) for the next few weeks.

What will come of this I don’t know, but I’ll sure as hell do my best to scribe anything and everything significant that happens in this space. Before I go any further though, it should be noted that this post will probably be the first and only thing I contribute to this quasi-journal, as while writing this I already find myself looking at the clock wondering how much precious time this could possibly devour. But that tentative albeit almost certainly honest note aside, as mentioned above, I will do my best to journal the boring and possibly un-boring shit that happens at night, in a condo lobby, in the Pacific Northwest, the best I possibly can.

Thank you for coming along with me on this quest and allow me to warn you, I can say that without any doubt or quiver in my shambled cyber voice, no good will come from this.