Clara.

 Oh my god. If that loser Jeremy doesn’t leave me the F alone I’m going to scream!! I was sitting in the break room with my friend Sarah and that complete dork walks in, sits in the corner by himself and just sat there trying to check me out. Eww! Major eww!! Anyways, now he is “friends” with me on facebook and now he won’t leave me alone! Jenny, my best friend from high school knows him and that is how he found me on there and he is THERE, all the bloody time! His profile picture is of him driving in his loser mobile, by himself. HA!

So now I’m at home in my apartment sitting at my computer chatting with my friends and eating uncooked Ramen noodles. I know it sounds weird but I really like them like that. I’m just too lazy to cook them like a normal person. Jeremy just said something to me and I REALLY don’t want to say anything back to him. I’ll just pretend he doesn’t exist.

I started working at Vision Comtrac a few months ago and I guess I like it. I work in the accounts receivable and everyone is pretty cool. I have my own semi-private cubicle office and I spend all day entering mindless crap in the computer and I make phone calls to people every once in a while. It wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t get stalked by these psychos (like Jeremy.) Oh my God, the other day I could’ve sworn I saw a giant wad of gum on his computer monitor when I walked by his work station! Who freakin’ does that?! 

Sitting on my a$$.

It is now 7 o’clock on Wednesday and I’m sitting in my recliner with my laptop on my lap, half watching CNN and checking my emails and looking at people on facebook. Clara from work just accepted my friend request and I feel like I’m one step closer to getting a real girlfriend. Trying to sound confident, I write “hey Clara, how’s it going?” on her wall. I can see she is online because she just chatted with three other girls I recognize from work. She doesn’t say anything back to me and soon after logs off totally ignoring my comment. I wonder what she’s doing?

 I almost forgot. Yesterday, when I got sent home for the thing on my head, I’m on probation and I can come back to work in a week. I swear man. It’s just bullshit. I got out my digital camera and took a picture of the spot on my head and took a look at it. Looks like some sort of rash. It sure as hell don’t look like a devil or whatever. My co-workers are stupid. I don’t see anything.

Clara just said “hi” back to me on facebook. Shit, I’m stoked! I wrote out “what are you doing” back to her. God I’m in love!

Anyways, my younger sister is coming for a visit in a while. We have a love/hate relationship. Audrey is two years younger than me and she thinks she knows everything, even though she’s been a major pain in the ass for most of her life. I remember one time when she was in high school, she bragged to her idiot friends about the alcohol our dad keeps in the house. One night, they had a get together while our folks were out that they drank everything! Of course she tried to put the blame on me, like typical sisters. Bloody swear. Anyways, we’re going to Angelo’s for supper. The only reason we’re going there is because she likes some douche bag that works there. I hear her knocking at my door now.

Clara hasn’t responded back to me. I wonder if I did something wrong?

The Spot

I woke up this morning from the most bizarre dream. I dreamed I was sitting on some sort of tarmac in the desert and there was a yellow line with arrows painted on the ground going right towards me. Suddenly I hear a voice on a loudspeaker initializing a countdown from ten. I turned my head to the direction of the speaker and I see a large billboard with the number ten. As the countdown continued, I could see what looked like a small jet coming my way. I didn’t even think about running away. I just sat there as the numbers decreased and the object approaching. Around the time number three came, I could see that it was in fact a missile racing towards me. Right when the clock reached “one” the missile was about to crash into me, I heard another voice, this time my moms voice on my answering machine saying “hello, are you there?” and I woke up. I laid there in my bed flat on my back and decided not to answer the phone. My mother gave up and I heard her hang up the phone.

            I felt so awake lying there in my mattress built for one, staring at the ceiling, studying the spider on his web in the corner, and periodically looking out the window. It was a partly cloudy day and my room was chilly from leaving the window open all night. Running my fingers through my hair, I felt something new on the top of my head where my bald spot was growing. It felt like sandpaper and when I looked at my fingers, there were small traces of blood.

            When I made it to work everybody was extra quiet. Apparently some schmuck took the fall for the missing office supplies I had stolen on my self approved day off from work and reality. I’m just glad it wasn’t me. Even though I hate my shitty job, I’m not ready to leave it. It did make me a bit proud for not getting caught.

            During my first break in the break room, I felt as though people were checking me out from behind where I was sitting. I was just sitting there drinking my Dr. Pepper and eating Doritos and people were staring at my head. Were they making fun of my bald spot? I didn’t know but it was really starting to piss me off so I got the courage to pick up all my snacks and move to another table close to the vending machines. I hate people!

            Get this! I get back to my desk and a few of the people I actually tolerate were there and they didn’t look to pleased for some reason. Martha, who is this 48 year old lady from two cubicles down the aisle spoke first. “Are you trying to be funny here, Jeremy?” I wasn’t quite sure what to respond with so I said “no” like I was asking a question. “Jeremy I don’t think what you did to the top of your head is really appropriate for a professional work environment. There are a lot of people here that DO go to church and they would not like the tattoo you drew on your head.” “Tattoo?” I asked. “What tattoo?” Martha clicked her tongue in disappointment and said “Really Jeremy, your tattoo of some sort of devil or whatever you got on there!” “What are you talking about? I’ve never gotten a tattoo in my life! Besides I don’t like needles and I have a low tolerance for pain.” I’m embarrassed to admit that openly so I said it with less bravado. They all started to yammer on about it and I just got up from my chair and walked through the small mob and headed for the men’s room. On the way there, some people give me dirty looks or they avoid eye contact altogether and pretend I’m not there. I make it into the men’s room as one guy is coming out and I head right to the mirror. Tilting my head a bit to see my bald spot, I can see that there is definitely some sort of drawing there. Did someone draw something somehow when I wasn’t looking? I got pissed as I was contemplating how and why someone could do something like this to my head. I’m too ticked off to think straight and I’m too scared to try to confront my suspects. I headed back to my desk and I see my boss who doesn’t look too happy bolting right towards me. He walks right up to me and says, “Jeremy, I think its best if you just went home now and   think about your future of working here.” I didn’t know what to say and I almost laughed out loud when I heard the words, “future” and “working here” so I nodded my head and got ready to go home.