Tangents

You see what happens? I have every intention in the world to write, and write often. But, for some reason, three weeks go by without a single post. Funny though, it doesn't seem like three weeks has passed since I last posted, I guess time is moving faster than I thought. Isn't that how it always is? Well, it is for me anyway (at least recently). Time seems to move like molasses but then one day I look up and a month or two, or a year or four, has elapsed in what feels to me like the blink of an eye.

I began to write this morning not because I had something life-altering to share with you all, or some momentous discovery about where my life is headed, but instead to describe to you how ridiculously uneasy (apparently) I feel here at my place of work. One would think that after what, almost six months at Marcus & Millichap, I wouldn't feel out of place; I wouldn't feel jumpy or nervous. Instead, I would feel at home, or at least "at work" :)

I get along with most of the people here at work, I enjoy talking to them when we do, and I like hearing about their lives. I especially like hearing about the lives of people who are married, and people with children. Maybe it's because their lives are so much different than mine. Maybe I envy where they are in life, maybe I envy how sure they seem to be, how confident, and how wise. I don't know if any of our relationships will ever go beyond the workplace setting, but they're kind enough, and they're polite enough, and some of them are genuine enough to garner my admiration, my attention, and my respect. Funny, it appears that I care about, or at the very least value, the people here at work more than I thought. They have become part of my daily routine, and although I still long for the kinds of friendships that I have been spoiled with over the past few years, it seems that I am becoming more comfortable with the idea of having casual acquantainces and with the realization that these casual acquantainces just might turn into friends if given enough time. I suppose what frustrates me about this job is just that...the job. It's not necessarily the people (well most of the people) or where I'm working (downtown is lovely), but just what I'm doing, and how useless I feel.

You see how easily distracted I am? I intended to write this morning about how I jump about ten feet in the air whenever someone sneaks in (okay, simply walks in the room when I'm not looking) to say hello. For example, picture me reaching to get something from the top shelf of a cabinet or crouching to get something from a bottom drawer and then picture boyd: a 50-ish year old tiny balding man, who is very friendly but very sneaky, walking down the hall. He pokes his head in to say hello and by the amount of noise I make, how startled I am, and how high I jump, you would think that he was a mugger in New York City instead of a loan originator with grand kids who dances with his daughter's drill-team at the halftime of her high school football games. You might even believe that we were in a grungy, dimly lit alleyway instead of a copy room illuminated by fluorescent light bulbs located on the 3rd floor of a secured office building in downtown Fort Worth. I mean really, why am I so jumpy all of the time? Maybe I just have a tendancy to be on edge, maybe I have a jumpy personality. If you have any insight to offer, please feel free.

Well, then. That was the reason I intended to write this morning but I bet you got a whole lot more than you bargained for when you began reading. Who am I kidding, I got a whole lot more than I bargained for when I began writing. And on that note, I will leave you for now.