The man who currently sits to the right of my desk, I was told, has a mild case of Tourette's. The other day he yelled out, "Fuck-a-fart!" This has obvious entertainment value (especially on days where I have nothing to do). Lately, I have been standing up on my chair to spy on him over my cubicle wall. He is usually talking on his telephone saying a variety of humorous, often insightful things. In mid conversation with someone on the phone, he exclaimed (while jumping to his feet) "I'm gonna pack his shit like it's never been packed before!" Immediately after he said this, he looked up and made eye contact with me and instantly saluted me, as if to tell me he knows he's a wild man and knows I am too. We have a connection, he and I, for the same reason people rarely keep their offices next to his, for the same reason I am described to people who don't know me as, "The tall one who shouts."
Heraclitus said, "You cannot step twice into the same stream. For as you are stepping in, other waters are ever flowing on to you." This reminds me of watching movies and having conversations and writing blogs. No big revelation here, it's just something I think about every now and then. I want to be as supportive of the people I care about as I can and believe I do a good job of it for the most part. Sometimes re-reading old things you've written or old things written you've received brings you back to where you always wanted to be but didn't realize you were there while it was happening. I feel so tired and sorry about all of the things I've never done and will likely never do.
I'm excited for what might happen to me and my life, but understand and accept the things that will not, even if it was something I expected or hoped for. I bought a drawing by Jake Gillespie this weekend. I need to go to Hobby Lobby for a frame soon.
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