Maintenance in Lala land

He never gave up either, and he didn't begin with the same chances as the rest of us. Well, look at him now.

I've been working on this blog for three days now. I'm organising my labels. Labels are useful; they categorise together same theme entries. For example, there is a label called humour. If you click on it, you'll be shown all humorous entries I've ever written, no matter how old they are. This arrangement will help readers discover entries worth reading that have been buried in the backlog of ten years of blogging. I understand that people may like my writing but not have the time or inclination to read my entire blog. Hey, I am the writer and even I can't read my entire blog in one go. So there, I hope the label system helps. I am not done yet and don't know when I'll be done. I am going back and forth between posts and labels and it takes time. After three days of work I was glad to see there are many humorous entries, a lot more than I originally thought. Humour is a good way to deal with despair.

Work is slavery. The hours and workload are exhausting. I have no good memories from Christmas anyway and now I have an extra reason I dislike it; the hordes of barbarians who want to do last minute grocery shopping. I wouldn't have guessed how vital eggplants and prosciutto are, but it turns out they are extremely important elements of Christmas. Who am I to judge the priorities of others?

I've been trying to get in touch with people without luck. Months ago I chanced upon an old boyfriend of mine, the one I was with more than ten years ago. I was very happy to see him as we had a good time together and I'm fond of him. He seemed happy to see me too. We exchanged numbers to meet again for a catch up coffee. I've rung him several times. He doesn't pick up. I honestly wonder why he gave me his number if he doesn't want to talk to me. He gave me his Facebook too. Doesn't reply to messages there either. It's really frustrating. I don't know what kind of weird ideas he has concerning what I want, but I just wanted to see him and talk about trivial stuff. You know, see how he is. Tell him where I am and what I do. His behaviour perplexes and hurts me, especially since I never mistreated him and I am the opposite of clingy. But humans in general are beyond my humble comprehensive abilities. I don't spend too much time pondering what is wrong with them or why they behave the way they do. I did it in the past and it's completely useless. He has every right not to want to see me and he's not obliged to explain why. And I have every right to consider his behaviour inexplicable, rude and hurtful. Then I eat chocolate and get some extra sleep because I am very tired and life goes on. What else to do? I mean yes, sure, I want to grab him by the lapels and shake him and yell at him "what the hell is wrong with you? I just wanted to chat!". Since he's unavailable, I shrug and move on. It doesn't have to do with me, but with him, and consequently there's nothing I can do.

Today I came across someone I liked years ago. Another 'what if' story that never took place. He moved to another city because he was accepted in university just as I was wondering if I should make a move. He looks as startlingly handsome as always. As per usual, I looked like shit. :D It's a joke how I always meet the ones I like when I look my worst. Then again, I don't know if that is the real reason I haven't had a relationship since Noah started building that boat. I don't think it is. In a similar manner to the previous subject, I shrugged and moved on. I'm tired. I don't what the real problem is. I never did and probably never will. These things are best left to chance when actual effort proves futile. Then again, chance has proved to be as futile as effort in my case. I just don't know, and it's not important. Yes, it hurts. It never ceases to hurt how I find myself as the victim or the spectator to happenings in my life, but I am trying to leave the martyrdom role behind. I want to keep myself happy. I have several books to read and stories of my own to daydream about. Since both effort and lack of effort bring the same result, I can only daydream, work hard and not think too much. Thinking leads straight into despair. 

I hope the new year will bring some long expected results of my hard work. And I hope I'll prove several people wrong. Living a good life is the best revenge one can get. I am angry enough to fantasise about not picking up my phone when I am better and they call me, but not petty enough to actually do it if it ever happens.

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