Nervous @ MindSay

I'm going to phone up for a job today, only a call centre position but the pay is good for my age.
I'm actually quite nervous, even though I've performed in front of crowds of people before I still get nervous on the phone, I guess I just prefer to be face to face I dunno.
I hope I get an interview and I hope I get a job....
Actually I just hope I manage to phone to be honest, sad aren't I?

If I get this job it will be the first one I've had since leaving school! (I've been doing a popular music course in college you see).

Anyway I think I'll phone at....One o'clock.


Wish me luck!


Rob [Deceased]

What have I been doing since my last post?

Waiting.

A guy from a literary publication contacted me, saying he read an article about me in Rosebud (see chapter 20 for details) and wanted to report the article in his own magazine.

How cool is that?  After running around the apartment, arms flailing, blood pumping, I sat at my computer to see what he needed. 

I filled out a bio like he asked me to, answered some questions like he asked me to, and then…

Waited.

It's been two weeks since I e-mailed him the answers and I haven't heard back.  Is my story going to be in the next publication?  Who knows.  All I can do is wait.

And last Saturday, the day before my first wedding anniversary, my wife and I went looking for houses.  We found one, we liked it, we went to see it again.

We decided to put an offer on it. 

So we print out all the documents and spend the evening signing them.  One after another after another.  Boom boom boom.

I get to work extra early so I can fax everything over to the realtor in time for her to get the offer in by 10.  I stick the papers into the machine, I type the number.

Nothing.

I try again.

Nothing.

I pitifully ask for help.

The fax machine is not my friend.

But fortunately we have another, so I try that sucker.  And wouldn't you know it, that one doesn't work either.  It's an epidemic.

But that's okay, because we can scan the documents and turn them into PDFs and e-mail them over.

If only the person who has access to the fancy printer would get in to work already.

Minutes tick by.  I keep trying to fax.  It keeps not working.  More minutes go by.

And hour goes by.

And finally she's here, and zip, we go straight to the machine.  It reads the documents hungrily.  We've got ourselves a PDF.

Oh wait, it's too large to e-mail.

We rescan.  Three smaller piles worth.  Three new files.

Oh, these'll go through the invisible e-mail wires, but veeeeeeeery slowly.  So I wait, and I wait, and I see the little "sending" icon on my computer, and I wait.

And I know that every minute that goes by an offer could be coming in from someone else.

But finally the realtor has all the documents!  But she has a meeting to go to.

"I'll send this right after lunch."

Uh, my stomach is killing me.  That other offer could be coming in right now.  The house could be disappearing from our grasp.

But "right after lunch" comes around, and I think the offer is in, and I know we aren't going to get an answer back right away (and if we did it'd probably be an answer we didn't want) but I'm still anxious anyway.

Waiting.

And then the phone rings at 5:00. Boy howdy am I nervous.

But for no reason, because there's no answer yet, because she hasn't even put in the offer yet.  There's a line on one of the forms that got cut off, so I have to rewrite my initials and send it through again.

So I do that.  But no, we BOTH need to initial.  So I forge Kristina's three letters and send it through again.

Okay, that's it, she's good to go.  The offer is in.

And now?

We wait.

And I know in that time another offer has come in.  I just know it.  How could it not have?

But even so…

…we wait. 

I could have an article printed about me in a literary magazine, and I could be the proud owner of a lovely new home in Levittown, Pennsylvania.

I could.  After the wait.   

I leave tomorrow. I have to take the train at 7am to the Nuremberg Train station and then from there I have to take the Subway all the way to the Airport. Hopefully I can manage all my luggage by myself. I've got two huge suitcases filled, a red duffel bag, and then my laptop case with laptop and books. That's a lot for one person, too much in fact.

I'm really nervous, because I know that even though I'm going home, I'm still not comfortable. There's going to be so much explaining and crying and anger and just all sorts of things that I don't want to deal with. Basically why I kept all this to myself for 12 years.

Well I'm off to bed. I have to get up really early. My tandem partner's picking me up at 6:30 then taking me to the train station. Good night.

I'm so disgusted with myself right now I can't even type an entry.

I've been having some fairly disturbing nightmares recently, although I haven't had a nightmare since I was a child. Yesterday I actually woke up sweating because it was that real. These are horrifyingly, vivid nightmares. I keep dreaming of ripping my teeth out chunk by chunk, flesh by bit of flesh until there is nothing left but bloody stumps in my mouth. The pain I feel in the dream is so real, that quite a few times I've woken up in my sleep and felt my own teeth to make sure they were still there. The only thing that I can possibly equate these dreams with is my middle toe. I know this sounds crazy, but I am crazy. I have terrible habits of picking at the skin on the corners of my thumbs until the skin tears and bleeds. Also I chew at the flesh on the inside of my cheeks, biting of little pieces and eating them. Well I was having a really really bad day and I started to pick at my nails, ripping them apart. Well when I got to my middle toe and started to pick at the nail, it ripped all the way into the middle of the nail. So I ripped the whole thing off. Didn't even hurt, it bled for a while, but that stopped. I moved onto the other foot and picked at the nails again, same thing happened to the middle toe, so I ripped it out too. It was sore the next day and felt funny walking, but there wasn't any real pain.

That's the only thing I can associate with the dreams and it only dawned on me today. I keep having the same dream over and over again. Even when I switch sides in the middle of the night, the dream will just continue but in another format. Sometimes my teeth are thick and sometimes there are hundreds of teeth in my mouth, but they all get ripped out.

I'm slightly anxious about going to sleep right now....

as soon as i'm done typing this, i get to go tell my human sexuality professor about how there's a certain part of the class that i think its best i skip out on...i'm sure she'll be very understanding and kind about it, i talked to her about the fact that i have ptsd n how the cops ran me thro the ringer n all of that back when i took her choices n changes in sexuality class, and she's a sex therapist so she's heard tons of stories so even if she doesn't remember mine coming from me, its still not unique. still makes me nervous as hell that i have to do it, tho. i really wish i could have seen albert today to help take some of this stress off, but hopefully thursday he'll see me. i don't understand why he's doing this, why he just can't tell me no. its probably some other new rule cyn came up with that he's took much of a fucking lap dog to stand up to. the more i think about it, the more angry i get n the more i wonder wtf i'm still doing hurting over him, but unfortunately no matter how much of an ass he is, its not making me like him less. its just making me hate myself that much more because i don't like him less.