It's getting so that I can't even walk down the corridor at work without nerves shooting through me. No, no, don't be like that, nothing at work is ever going to go anywhere at all, but take this for an example. Girl I am friendly with says 'hi Paul', and me, trying to be nonchalant about it, as if it happens all the time, nothing to stop for - plus would get me into trouble with parts of my non-work life - don't stop, dart my eyes over quickly, say 'hey' back.
And my voice breaks, in the worst possible way, like a young adolescent. On just a one syllable semi answer - DEFINITELY not going to stop for a chat now, and flee from the vicinity LOL. No, it's not that the non-work part of me is cramping my style at all, it is just my long held position of not starting anything with a workmate, the policy making a strong comeback from almost being shredded two weeks ago. Was it only two weeks? I look at the calendar, and confirm that this has been the longest two weeks in months.
Another workplace girl, whom I feel I am good friends with, has a revealing top on. Has a diamond like panel cut out of the front, from her neck down, a piece of clothing given to her by a friend, that is lower cut than she was expecting. I feel she is somewhat embarrassed by it all. I am wearing one of my better shirts, and comment that we are both overdressed for the work day. We share a smile, and get back to the phone calls.
I think on it later, and realise we do share a lot of smiles. I wonder how she thinks of me. In a completely friend way, as she has a potential 'jealous nutter boyfriend' thing going on at home - if I even drift my fingers over that particular fire, I think that the reaction would give me a broken hand, arm, face perhaps. But we do share a lot of smiles.
With the week I have had at work, it is getting to the point where I am not wanting to talk to the customers at all. Which is a Very Bad Thing, being in a call centre. I need a break, I need to unwind. I have a three day weekend now, but still not sure whether that will be enough. I try to repeat the mantras in my head that there is such a thing as good stress, but surely being hit with different amounts of stress from four seemingly different directions is not a rosy positive?
After my work day ends, I head to the nearest bar. I need to take the edge off, and stating it that way makes me sound like an alcoholic. Less than the beer though, I need companionship, of friends around me, of a sense that I have not been alone in my head this week, disliking customers. The nearest bar I scan, no one there. I could go to the regular railway station, there is a bar downstairs there, but it is a refuge of last resort, I need something better.
I head in the opposite direction, towards the Valley. I remember walking in those same footsteps two weeks ago, and try to banish those thoughts from my mind - that was then, this is now, and after then, completely different scenario. It could also have helped if I had reached out to friends and advised them that I was thinking of heading out, but that is part of my shyness perhaps, not wanting to put people out merely because I need a boost. Also the thought of how strong friendships based at work are currently. I only seem to be invited to extravaganza leaving dinners and drinks, not the run of the mill it's Friday let's go out.
My self esteem, low as it is, makes an appearance, and I grin in the most self deprecating way I know how. I try to remember when I wasn't worried about this type of thing (when sober), it must have been at primary school perhaps.
I find myself at a bar, one regularly attended by workmates, and scan the tables. I buy a beer, bottled, I don't want to drink an entire pint, having flirted with the idea of a bourbon. I flag that idea away as I know I will want more of that taste later if it passes my lips now. Like a blinding light, I realise I am not in the mood for socialising, even if I do come across friends or workmates, if I drink tonight it will be to get drunk - it has been that bad a week.
I take a seat, by myself, on the edge of the outside tables. To possibly scan in towards the bar, or to people watch along the mall. I end up doing more of the former than the latter, though not much of either. I try to see that I am not the only one alone, but not at this bar. A young couple sits beside me, talking loudly - too loudly for them to be a couple in all senses of the word, maybe this is a first or second date, still testing each other's boundaries out. Even if they are merely workmates, the fact that no one else is with them indicates the meeting is somewhat date inclined.
More than people watching though, either around the tables or on the street, I sip my beer and take my mobile phone out of my jacket pocket every two minutes or so, glaring as I do so. This will not be an eventful night I quickly realise, and I really should have told someone, anyone, that I felt like going out. Plus, me looking at my mobile gives me the appearance of possibly waiting for someone, instead of being the sad lonely pathetic person I am quickly shrivelling up inside to be. I remember similar strategies when I was in London. Self esteem 2, Pauly 0.
I realise that I do have a few, precious few, contacts on the mobile that are actually in Brisbane. I text one, an ex workmate that I haven't seen in two months at least, an English girl, swallowing the lump of embarrassment in my throat about meaning to text her about the London bombings but not quite getting around to it. I text her now, and make a promise to myself that if she texts back, and says she is out and about, that I will stay in town, if not by the time I have finished my beer and had a 'meal', it is time to go home.
I finish my beer, leave the pub, and head over to the fast food outlet. I am feeling completely exhausted, as I take a seat to people watch in the mall again. As I eat my burgers (yes, I did need a second one) Crowded House come on as music, with 'It's Only Natural'. I love the band, but I am so not in the mood for this particular song. The busker a couple of doors down, seemingly inspired, starts 'You Better Be Home Soon' - I can't see him now, but I remember passing him, sitting on a blanket, with a guitar. He could be one of the homeless, and he sings out of tune. It is as cold a night as it ever gets in Queensland, and prejudicially I think that all 'real' buskers would be home by now.
A young family comes into view, mother, father and young child, perhaps four or five. I wonder what the child thinks of the shabbiness around her, and try to think back to when I was a child visiting the city with my parents. I remember that unless it was pointed out to me, I didn't notice it - the young girl tonight is probably having a whale of a time. I then think of how the city, or at least the street, would appear if I did have friends around me and perhaps a couple more beers inside me - soberness and company can make a huge difference in perceptions.
Still no text from the ex workmate when I get to the train station. Opposite the station is a strip bar, and I see the bouncer talking to kids outside. They obviously crave the excitement the place throws out to their male teenage hormones, but they are also so obviously underage. It looks like it has been a long conversation between the teens and the bouncer already, and if they were puppy dogs their tails would still be wagging. Persistence seems the name of the game, but it won't get them anywhere. Maybe they would have better luck at the adult store next door - or perhaps they have been there first, their hormones racing now, and are trying to make the next step up.
I see a sub sandwich chain that I remember from Canada in the food court at the station, and silently curse myself for the burgers I have had already. Perhaps will have the subs next time, if I can remember they are there. The quick burst of memory takes me back to eating out in Ottawa, a faint burst of warmth in my brain only, as I now just want to go home and curl up.
I sit at the platform as three trains go past, a lot for this time of night, but the Exhibition is on in town. I flirt tiredly with the idea of attending tonight, but it is late, the show will only be open a couple more hours at most, not worth a full admission cost. And how different can it really be since the last time I was there, five years ago.
I think of that whole concept of five years ago - before any of my major relationships, before September 11 and Ground Zero. I want to analyse it further, to roll it around in my head as if it was a smooth stone in my fingertips, but my eyes droop further. I silently curse that the most entertaining thing I have with me is my mobile, with it's very basic games. I should have picked up a magazine to read on the way home.
When there is nothing to do on a train, the only thing I can seem to do is count down the stations to home. Even though it is only about a half hour train ride north of the city, it seems to take a lifetime. I make it home, eventually. I switch the TV on, and immerse myself in the Ashes. Not quite a second wind for the day, but as occupied as my mind wishes to be. Channel flicking, I see Grease on another channel, I have never watched that movie and decide not to break my duck tonight. I channel flick from the cricket occasionally, very occasionally - now to Rage, but their playlist tonight isn't up to much.
It is a late night, or early morning, by the time I get to bed.
Pauly
And my voice breaks, in the worst possible way, like a young adolescent. On just a one syllable semi answer - DEFINITELY not going to stop for a chat now, and flee from the vicinity LOL. No, it's not that the non-work part of me is cramping my style at all, it is just my long held position of not starting anything with a workmate, the policy making a strong comeback from almost being shredded two weeks ago. Was it only two weeks? I look at the calendar, and confirm that this has been the longest two weeks in months.
Another workplace girl, whom I feel I am good friends with, has a revealing top on. Has a diamond like panel cut out of the front, from her neck down, a piece of clothing given to her by a friend, that is lower cut than she was expecting. I feel she is somewhat embarrassed by it all. I am wearing one of my better shirts, and comment that we are both overdressed for the work day. We share a smile, and get back to the phone calls.
I think on it later, and realise we do share a lot of smiles. I wonder how she thinks of me. In a completely friend way, as she has a potential 'jealous nutter boyfriend' thing going on at home - if I even drift my fingers over that particular fire, I think that the reaction would give me a broken hand, arm, face perhaps. But we do share a lot of smiles.
With the week I have had at work, it is getting to the point where I am not wanting to talk to the customers at all. Which is a Very Bad Thing, being in a call centre. I need a break, I need to unwind. I have a three day weekend now, but still not sure whether that will be enough. I try to repeat the mantras in my head that there is such a thing as good stress, but surely being hit with different amounts of stress from four seemingly different directions is not a rosy positive?
After my work day ends, I head to the nearest bar. I need to take the edge off, and stating it that way makes me sound like an alcoholic. Less than the beer though, I need companionship, of friends around me, of a sense that I have not been alone in my head this week, disliking customers. The nearest bar I scan, no one there. I could go to the regular railway station, there is a bar downstairs there, but it is a refuge of last resort, I need something better.
I head in the opposite direction, towards the Valley. I remember walking in those same footsteps two weeks ago, and try to banish those thoughts from my mind - that was then, this is now, and after then, completely different scenario. It could also have helped if I had reached out to friends and advised them that I was thinking of heading out, but that is part of my shyness perhaps, not wanting to put people out merely because I need a boost. Also the thought of how strong friendships based at work are currently. I only seem to be invited to extravaganza leaving dinners and drinks, not the run of the mill it's Friday let's go out.
My self esteem, low as it is, makes an appearance, and I grin in the most self deprecating way I know how. I try to remember when I wasn't worried about this type of thing (when sober), it must have been at primary school perhaps.
I find myself at a bar, one regularly attended by workmates, and scan the tables. I buy a beer, bottled, I don't want to drink an entire pint, having flirted with the idea of a bourbon. I flag that idea away as I know I will want more of that taste later if it passes my lips now. Like a blinding light, I realise I am not in the mood for socialising, even if I do come across friends or workmates, if I drink tonight it will be to get drunk - it has been that bad a week.
I take a seat, by myself, on the edge of the outside tables. To possibly scan in towards the bar, or to people watch along the mall. I end up doing more of the former than the latter, though not much of either. I try to see that I am not the only one alone, but not at this bar. A young couple sits beside me, talking loudly - too loudly for them to be a couple in all senses of the word, maybe this is a first or second date, still testing each other's boundaries out. Even if they are merely workmates, the fact that no one else is with them indicates the meeting is somewhat date inclined.
More than people watching though, either around the tables or on the street, I sip my beer and take my mobile phone out of my jacket pocket every two minutes or so, glaring as I do so. This will not be an eventful night I quickly realise, and I really should have told someone, anyone, that I felt like going out. Plus, me looking at my mobile gives me the appearance of possibly waiting for someone, instead of being the sad lonely pathetic person I am quickly shrivelling up inside to be. I remember similar strategies when I was in London. Self esteem 2, Pauly 0.
I realise that I do have a few, precious few, contacts on the mobile that are actually in Brisbane. I text one, an ex workmate that I haven't seen in two months at least, an English girl, swallowing the lump of embarrassment in my throat about meaning to text her about the London bombings but not quite getting around to it. I text her now, and make a promise to myself that if she texts back, and says she is out and about, that I will stay in town, if not by the time I have finished my beer and had a 'meal', it is time to go home.
I finish my beer, leave the pub, and head over to the fast food outlet. I am feeling completely exhausted, as I take a seat to people watch in the mall again. As I eat my burgers (yes, I did need a second one) Crowded House come on as music, with 'It's Only Natural'. I love the band, but I am so not in the mood for this particular song. The busker a couple of doors down, seemingly inspired, starts 'You Better Be Home Soon' - I can't see him now, but I remember passing him, sitting on a blanket, with a guitar. He could be one of the homeless, and he sings out of tune. It is as cold a night as it ever gets in Queensland, and prejudicially I think that all 'real' buskers would be home by now.
A young family comes into view, mother, father and young child, perhaps four or five. I wonder what the child thinks of the shabbiness around her, and try to think back to when I was a child visiting the city with my parents. I remember that unless it was pointed out to me, I didn't notice it - the young girl tonight is probably having a whale of a time. I then think of how the city, or at least the street, would appear if I did have friends around me and perhaps a couple more beers inside me - soberness and company can make a huge difference in perceptions.
Still no text from the ex workmate when I get to the train station. Opposite the station is a strip bar, and I see the bouncer talking to kids outside. They obviously crave the excitement the place throws out to their male teenage hormones, but they are also so obviously underage. It looks like it has been a long conversation between the teens and the bouncer already, and if they were puppy dogs their tails would still be wagging. Persistence seems the name of the game, but it won't get them anywhere. Maybe they would have better luck at the adult store next door - or perhaps they have been there first, their hormones racing now, and are trying to make the next step up.
I see a sub sandwich chain that I remember from Canada in the food court at the station, and silently curse myself for the burgers I have had already. Perhaps will have the subs next time, if I can remember they are there. The quick burst of memory takes me back to eating out in Ottawa, a faint burst of warmth in my brain only, as I now just want to go home and curl up.
I sit at the platform as three trains go past, a lot for this time of night, but the Exhibition is on in town. I flirt tiredly with the idea of attending tonight, but it is late, the show will only be open a couple more hours at most, not worth a full admission cost. And how different can it really be since the last time I was there, five years ago.
I think of that whole concept of five years ago - before any of my major relationships, before September 11 and Ground Zero. I want to analyse it further, to roll it around in my head as if it was a smooth stone in my fingertips, but my eyes droop further. I silently curse that the most entertaining thing I have with me is my mobile, with it's very basic games. I should have picked up a magazine to read on the way home.
When there is nothing to do on a train, the only thing I can seem to do is count down the stations to home. Even though it is only about a half hour train ride north of the city, it seems to take a lifetime. I make it home, eventually. I switch the TV on, and immerse myself in the Ashes. Not quite a second wind for the day, but as occupied as my mind wishes to be. Channel flicking, I see Grease on another channel, I have never watched that movie and decide not to break my duck tonight. I channel flick from the cricket occasionally, very occasionally - now to Rage, but their playlist tonight isn't up to much.
It is a late night, or early morning, by the time I get to bed.
Pauly
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