oh, what now
June 14. 2000

"I hate to write, but I love having written." - Dorothy Parker

Work hurts me. I know, I should have moved onto another subject by now, but when something takes up 9 hours of your day, you can't help but thinking about it. Fortunately, I have Dani Blodniker to make it more bearable. Quite a name you have there, I said to her. She started the beginning of last week, she goes to Kutztown University, and we keep each other mutually sane where otherwise we would just slowly let our brain cells whither and die.

She's really cute, actually, with short bleached blonde hair, big green eyes with overtweezed eyebrows and lips that squish together when she smiles. I like her a lot, and we exchange witty banter and wise ass remarks while working. I'm really lucky to have her there.

I just wish I had lunch with her. I sit with these two women, Sonya and Bonnie. Sonya is from my section, and we get along quite well. But I get the feeling everytime I talk to her that she's holding back something. She's a very attractive and friendly woman, but her demeanor often reminds me of a scared rabbit. She's not at all timid, but there's this underlying nervousness in her eyes that I glimpse occasionally. I get the feeling sometimes that she wants to just bolt out of the room. Bonnie, her friend, has much more severe and pointed features, which happen to match her personality perfectly. Her face is freckled and sunburned, and everything about her is hard. I have never once seen her smile, though she has sneered at me several times, for whatever reason.

So these are the two women I sit with at lunch. Sit with is a very accurate description, because we exchange no conversation whatsoever. Well, Sonya and Bonnie talk, but never try to include me in the conversation. It's not like I'm making an effort, anyway. But here's the weird thing: when they do talk, all they talk about is work.

"We ran out of 2s and 3s today. Liz keep calling on the radio, but they were really backed up."

"Joyce is ridiculously slow. I go for break and I come back and the same boxes are still on the line."

"When the conveyor stopped they came and got the boxes by hand."

And on and on and on. I guess the reason I don't contribute to the conversation is because I don't find my work interesting or absorbing at all, as they apparently do. I mean, do these women have families? Husbands? Kids? Hobbies? If they do, I've never heard them talk about them. It's kind of disturbing to me.

All I can think about is my outside interests. I have all sorts of things devised to keep my mind busy while I work. I compose emails in my head. I write entries for this site in my head. I brainstorm graphics I want to use on the Centralia site. I think about all the art projects I have planned for the summer.

I'm rarely in the here and now anymore.

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