Today my program director asked to speak with me on issues that didn’t make sense to me–probably b/c he misstook me for another of my colleagues who also is black. She wears glasses but not like mine. She has shorter hair, but it’s got a chemical nature to it and it’s longer then mine. She’s taller than me by like a full head, is lighter than me, has a completely different voice but hey–we’re both black right?
I’ve decided that I’ve got to branch outside of my fellow psych friends. In fact what I need to do is to hang out with non-pysch, non-medical people. That would be good for my whole being.
I’m contemplating (God willing) taking a short weekend trip to da burgh in April (along with a couple other people who’ve since left) and having a bit of a reunion/party kind of thing. We’ll see.
My birthday celebration is approaching and so far there seem to be four of us (including myself) who will be going to hang outon the beach, chill. One of my other colleagues thinks she’ll be able to make part of it. We’ll see.
8:45 PM D: happy valentine’s day
8:46 PM me: happy V-Day to you! So have you found a honey to share dinner, movie and dancing with tonight? 🙂
D: no, but online with her now, and you?
8:47 PM me: oooh…
okay D, i see how you do
nope, nothing for me
D: hey, you left me up here in the cold :)) [my reaction to this was just to laugh b/c i wasn’t sure what that meant]
8:48 PM me: 🙂 heeheehee
D: I miss our dates with fake Italian food at Olive Garden and Eat-n-park
[uhm, oooooh, that’s what he meant. dang, wish someone had told me]
Hmmm, so apparently uhm, well, he was feeling me and i wasn’t feeling him and i never knew he was feeling me? Yeeah, things that you find out after the fact are always a little strange to digest.
I was awoken early this am (6ish) by the loud, expletive replete argument occuring in the upstairs apt. She’s doing him wrong. He’s upset. I closed my eyes with the following mantra running through my mind: Father God, I need to move.
This is a lawless city. Weed floated down onto my back porch a few nights ago, though I never knew it until one of the round the way boys casually knocked on my door asking for me to please hand him back the bag on my back porch which he insisted was there as he personally shucked it there the night prior. AAAAH….and once again (after handing him back his stuff) shall we all say it together??? “Father God, I need to move!” I’ve decided to do a play about my life. I think people would be sorely amused, don’t you?.