i wanted to post at
Wednesday, August 29th, 2001i wanted to post at work, so i wrote some stuff, but decided against posting it, for reasons i’d rather not get into. this week so far has been excrutiatingly stressful, and it doesn’t help that i get shit from others for putting myself in this situation. but that, is all i’m going to get into for now.
yesterday was strange. driving to work, sitting in the passenger’s seat, feeling sorry for dragging alison out this early in the morning to this much traffic to drive me to work. there was a woman on the ship canal bridge threatening to jump, which clogged up traffic because i-5 was closed and all the traffic was diverted to the streets of the u-district. i got to work and people talked about it and said things like “why couldn’t she do this on a saturday?” or something of that nature, and all i could think about was how things weren’t that bad for me, in fact, they were pretty damn great, aside from the unneccessary stress that i’ve come upon, and that someone else has come upon something that she just can’t handle, and chose to try and end her life because of it.
and then, while at work, there were classes for patients who were getting liver and kidney transplants (actually, it’s probably one or the other), and the classes are designed so that people learn how to make a transplant work, so that the organ does not reject after it’s been transplanted. people would come in and you could usually tell who had liver disease, and who had drug habits. some people are just unlucky enough to have either, and i would see them come in, and i would just want to leave – go home and curl up in bed with my girlfriend and watch a movie and never go outside again. (aside: while at work, i’m at lunch and i notice a woman with red hair sitting on the steps with about ten other people, lined up eating lunch)
after i worked at the medical center, i went to the theater, and exhausted myself some more. nearing the end of the night, a woman comes in asking if i had seen someone. she gives me the description, and she seems a little flustered. i look down, and think if i had seen a man fitting this description. although i did, i told her i didn’t, because i didn’t want to get involved in whatever was going down.
the woman was persistent, and eventually got someone else to say they had seen that man. she led her to the theater he was in. my compatriot went in, and came back out, nodded “yes” in confirmation that it was the man she was describing. the woman asked her to go back in and verify it once more, and told my coworker that that was her husband, and asked if he was with someone else.
i remembered the guy; i noticed specifically because he was walking with a woman that i had recognized, at lunch.
my coworker said she saw him in the back with red hair, making out. the distraught nodded and smirked one of those sad smirks where you know something has gone terribly wrong, and you can’t go back from that point.
“that’s my husband, and he’s cheating on me.”
days like this make me realize that things can seem bad, but when they seem worse for everyone else, it gets hard to complain.
