Day #1, Auburndale & Lakeland

Seraphim.

Seretonin.

It gets a little humid when I'm already hating Florida at 8AM. The traffic is just impatient enough to deserve all of the hurricanes. But then I realize that it's just my bad mood, causing such a harsh opinion.

I arrive at my destination. I was here for working last Fall, also. It was a legendary assignment. I had given my all. And then they inadvertently dumped gallons and gallons of diesel fuel into their hot, not-spinning turbine, and ruined the heart and lungs of it. And I had to give my all again. Often, I would give my all from 6AM until 2AM the following day. I was the captain going down with the ships. Giving my all and my everything was too much for my poor psyche. Lack of sleep and water will surely make me paranoid and anxious.

In general, I have hated the human race ever since that last 6AM to 2AM shift.

But, so, I arrived at this place again this morning, one year removed from that drama. For pre-planning. I try to be optimistic.

I am not in the control room 20 minutes, and the little ego-bashes begin, from the direction of some braindead operator guy:

"... yeah.. those (my company) engineers, they're sharp as marbles..."
and
"(variation on 'your turbines suck')"

Sort of a sad attempt at igniting a duel of pride. Nobody seems to know that I have no pride, because I keep forgetting to wear the t-shirt.

But more than that, I don't feel as if I owe my employer too much pride in their stuff. I mean, we just have a gentlemanly agreement, where I plan, direct and execute to the best of my abilities, and then they pay me for it. Pom-poms and toothy smiles are not a part of that bargain.

But man, I Hate dueling. Whether its with swords, wits, penises, or passiveaggression. Or whatever. Duels can suck it.

I am not a believer in confrontations, usually. Unless it involves plenty of sarcasm and loathesome malice.

Yes, he meant it in a jokeful, prodding way, but I saw through all of that. My vision pierced his constitution, and I beheld something uglier than ought to be talking to someone as me. In that tone. (?)

Anyway.

So. And I made the three or four phone calls that I needed to make to ensure that everything would begin smoothly on Monday, and then it was 9 or 10 o'clock. And I was bored. And I wondered why in the fuck I needed to be here four days ahead of schedule.

Us moguls of pacing.

I should talk about the plane ride last night. It was interesting in that I hardly noticed it. It's getting to the point where I can almost sleepwalk through airtrips.

It's like, I am walking through the Orlando airport and suddenly I wonder "hey, how did I get here?".

Fortunately, I found my hotel room (the only one available in Central Florida) to be pleasantly pleasant. It's cozy, as hotel rooms go.

I relaxed in my kingsizedbed and flipped through the channels. 'Field of Dreams' was on. So I watched it a bit. I loved it when I was a kid. It bolstered a faith in believing. Faith in having faith. Or something like that. But now that I'm older, it's just melodramatic and sort of daft. And awkward.

Very little can make a poignant statement in "Believing" without seeming awkward, anymore. Or so it seems.

So I wonder if I was wrong when I was a kid, or if I am wrong now. From where doth true vision cometh? Time and experience, or freshly fresh affects?

So I turned the channel. And the fucking Yankees beat the Twins in the 12th. Boo to the Yankees.

Back to today, though.

So I got bored, and I went shopping. For ink cartridges, for a fridge and microwave for the crew, for telephone wire and couplings and battery chargers and stuff like that. And eventually, amidst all of the shopping, I found myself eyeing innocent and luscious Staples or Home Depot employees. Oh, what a poor boy I am. So after I laughed at myself for alittle, I wondered how one goes about seducing, especially whilst overcoming the obstacles of my glasses, acne and haircut. Oh, how do you arrive, gammamale? And do you meet yourself leaving?

But then it was 3PM, and I felt like taking a nap.

I wondered if I could collect plastic bags, and melt them down and turn them into healthy sterile blood. WalMart bluebags bags for B-negative. BestBuy yellowbags for O.

Directly, I decided that I wasnt making any god damned sense.

The soundtrack today was Mirah. "C'mon, Miracle". The CD has a picture of a horse. A racehorse. Maybe the racehorse is named Miracle, and Mirah bet on it. I dunno.

Oh, what else?

Page fifteen, and Oed has already been unfaithful. What shall I be taught?

Tonight, I am going to rent and watch "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind", because I'd wanted to see it, but never got the chance.

And so...