Stuck

I can’t think what to write about.

I kind of want to go back to sleep. Except I had very disturbing dreams on the couch. It feels hot down here.

I think I have to finish this later.

Okay, I’m back. I laid back down for an hour or so. Didn’t sleep, but it was pleasant, anyway.

I don’t think I sleep well. I snore, too. No matter what time I go to bed, I’m always tired.

If they ever promote me to the office, I might be less tired, but I don’t know what we’ll do about the kids in the afternoon. They might have to be in the after school program a couple of days. I hate to do it, but they’re too young to be home by themselves.

At what point will Desmond be old enough to come home and get Aislyn off the bus? I’m not even comfortable having him out in the backyard by himself. He’s almost 10.

It’s not that I don’t trust him. I don’t trust other people. Stranger Danger from the 1980s and my paranoid mother taught me to be wary of everyone.

I don’t think they still do aftercare in middle school, do they? I think the bus might take Desmond to Mom’s place after school, but Aislyn would still have to go to the after school program…and it’s only just now occurring to me that she can’t be in a program!

She still has frequent accidents, especially in the afternoon. She has to come home.

I’m putting the cart before the horse again, anyway. The job board has been empty of office openings since July. Who knows if, even when there are openings, I’ll be selected for one?

I don’t know what my reputation is, or if I even have one. My current boss thinks I’m doing a great job, my previous boss did, too. I think my coworkers all like me. I’m on a committee.

I might also be known, though, for having a public blog and dressing more or less the way I want to. I don’t know how important those things are to people, though. They’ve not come up so far.

Well, except for my hat, and once I forgot my vest after lunch. But the only time I leave my hat off anymore is when I peel labels, because that’s what Rick did.

When Ray’s around, it’s always on. I’m afraid he’s going to point again.

Someday, somehow, I’m going to get that man to smile all the way. And then we’ll be the best of friends. BAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

God, talk about never smiling.

But he’s only that way with me. I’ve seen him smile and laugh and joke around with literally everyone else. I don’t know if I make him uncomfortable for some reason, or nervous?

But why, though? I’m not intimidating.

It’s one of life’s great mysteries, I guess.

I guess laying down helps me have more to say.

So now I know I have a problem in the afternoon I need to find a way to resolve in the event that I am promoted.