I’m on break at Starbucks eating a strawberry & blueberry parfait and drinking a soy latte. My schedule has not changed yet. I’m still stuck working a grueling 7 hour shift, massaging for six and a half of those hours and not getting many opportunities to relax here in Starbucks with my laptop.
All I can think about lately is mall shopping and my upcoming trip to Savannah. I have no time in-between these thoughts to think about anything else.
There are annoying people sitting next to me talking about the most boring things, but they make it sound so important and note-worthy. I shouldn’t talk. I feel boring.
Everything has been fantastic lately. Even my clients have been fantastic. Fantastic, but boring. I have 9 more days until Savannah. 9 days…….Today is Thursday, then Friday, then I go dancing on Saturday and I have my three days off – then work three days more and then Savannah. These have been my thoughts while massaging in silence in a small room with a complete stranger. I wish clients talked more.
I have a two hour massage next. A two hour with someone I never met before. I hope they talk. I’m tired of thinking about my schedule for the next 9 days. I think about my schedule, and then think about all the money I’m making and that I’m close to being less than $10,000 in debt. That’s all that’s in my head at the moment.
What’s wrong with me lately? I’m happy, that’s what it is. I have barely a thought in my head because I’m stupidly happy lately. Being happy is not my cup of tea for this reason.
How can people live their lives like this? I’m starting to feel shallow and superficial. Is that what happens to happy people? Do they become so distracted in their own self-made universe of complete ego-mania that they miss out on the deeper stuff?
I have to go back to work. My time out of work goes by way to fast, but I only have three hours left. I don’t want to be happy anymore. I have created somehow a twinge of back pain to help in pinning me down to reality. I hunch over my clients too much. Massaging their feet, or their shoulders.
I can’t get over these people’s enthusiasm in talking about mundane, everyday crap – seriously, it’s amazing to listen to. Now they’re talking about irish car-bombs, the gentleman going into detail on how it’s made.
Man – Ha ha I said to they guys, ‘no thank you, I’ll just stick with my guiness’.
Woman – Ha ha ha!!
They are even boring in the stories they tell. They are middle-aged. The woman is talking frantically now. They are completely engulfed in each other. Good for them. I’m not so easily entertained.