So I was alone in a restaurant tonight, still congested as all hell, and I tried getting friends of mine on the phone. (I don't know why this was a good idea. Who on Earth wants to listen to me eat?) But there was either something wrong with the acoustics in the restaurant, so I think everyone on the phone with me heard the soft rock playing in American Cafe over my own voice.
I hated being alone today. Hated it. Hated it more than yesterday. I just wanted to call every person I've ever met and talk to them for five to 10 minutes about nothing in particular. I don't know what my problem was. I just wanted something. A significant day. A conversation that mattered. Something real. The best I did was finish a section of CONSEQUENCES OF FALLING, and even that failed (because the story's not yet developed enough to be involving) to generate much buzz. But that'll change.
Danielle, a friend I've gotten to know through Mike and Kacoon and one of the people I called tonight when my cell phone was blocking out the sound of my own voice, told me that my message was impossible to understand.
"I felt like Jodie Foster in CONTACT," she said. "I mean, all I heard was this static, then this beeping. And the weird thing is, my phone ring is the theme from CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE THIRD KIND, so it was like I was in some science fiction movie."
I don't know why I needed to talk to people today. I didn't have anything really to say, even today during my therapy appointment. I just thought that I was past sick days of eating alone and watching someone get murdered on DAYS OF OUR LIVES.
But I guess no one ever really gets past empty days.
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