They Call The Wind Pariah

So...does the new blog template give you a headache?

I got to work yesterday, and some of my coworkers (the ones that don't work in the operators' room with me) were very nice about asking about my condition. It was pretty unanimous: if I am calling off work, I must have REALLY been sick. I was still a little bit sniffy and was coughing a little bit, but it wasn't too bad.

The problem, of course, was when I went into the operators' room to find it absolutely reeking of Lysol. I knew that Problem Coworker #1 must have sprayed half a can all over the place. You should also know that this never occurs whenever anyone else gets sick; it's only me. It has less to do with germs and has everything to do with obsession.

Plus, Coworker Dearest was in one of those patented "I Hate Eric" moods. So it made for a very long day. Making matters even more exciting was that I found that someone had been rifling through my magazine rack, putting my "Gay & Lesbian Review" at the front, where it had been sandwiched between two issues of Entertainment Weekly. This was done when I was off for a few days before and left my Advocate on the rack. I have not heard anything about my magazines.

So Wednesday made for a very, very long day. Today was slightly better, only with Problem Coworker #2. It makes me glad I bought those magazines. Instinct has changed a good bit over the years, I must say.

I have also answered an ad at a roommate service that I joined. I am finally doing something about getting out of this house. I have been psychologically abused and manipulated by Julie long enough. I am no longer compromising my happiness waiting for Cleo to come to his senses and leave her. And if this person doesn't respond, I will keep on looking.

Then, I went online to the Dulles Triangles website and joined their organization. As soon as they process my membership, I will look into attending the social activities. I don't know about the Happy Hours at this point. I once again thought about going tonight, but it got to be too late by the time I was done joining up. That was the easy part; the trickier part will be to convince others that I am actually a person worth hanging with. I think it's that same mantra: fake it 'til you make it. Or, in other words, lie until you start to believe it yourself.

I think OJ Simpson did that back in 1994.

I am beginning to think that Julie might have another trick up her sleeve to isolate me on the Metro this coming Sunday. She, Cleo, Elaine, Terra, and I are supposed to be going together. Are they going to expect me to drive myself, thus guaranteeing that we won't be together? All five of us can't fit in one car. If this is her ulterior motive, we will see how she reacts when I move out of this house. I am thinking about this, as this is the evening that Cleo and Julie are at the theatre.

I am having lunch with an old friend tomorrow. His name is Thi, and I knew him at Hecht's, and he was the one who got me started with Louis Vuitton back in 2002. He (and his married-ass boyfriend) will be meeting at Tysons at noon. I really wish his boyfriend wasn't there; I have met the dude before, and Thi can do so much better.

I hope this weekend goes well. Cross your fingers for me.

Eric Out.