I feel like I should be writing more, but I don't know what to write. I think the new medicine took some of the angst out of my sails and so I don't feel the compulsion to write. I guess I could just write my minute to minute, hour to hour, day to day. Something will come out.
We went to the movies and saw Get Out today. The race stuff made me uncomfortable, but...maybe it's good that a white dude feels uncomfortable about race stuff now and then. I don't know. It was a great move, I thought, and I was glad that I went. It was scary. It was original...or...it had a level of racial audacity on the scale of Blazing Saddles.
I got drunk at the work orientation, but this was encouraged. Each of us new recruits and the HR lady and the other higher level VP guy were all drinking. I let loose some crackpot business strategy bs thinking thoughts. A bunch of what ifs and why fors and all that. Crackpot stuff. Talked mad shit.
Our visitor went back to Michigan. I was sad to see her go. She's headed back to a weird situation. I don't really get it, the trip she's on. If she's not careful, some years will pass, and she'll be 40 years old and living in her dad's basement, not that there's anything wrong with that, except for all of the things that are wrong with it.
I'm a little tipsy. After the movie today, we went to this little bar walking distance away and had some dringks. I had three bourbons. There is a waitress there who we always request. We hadn't seen her since the holidays. She sure did have some major life stuff happen, scary stuff with her tiny daughter. Scary stuff. She stopped breathing and her lips turned blue and she had some surgery. This lady - I don't know how the hell she soldiers through all this stuff. She is the sweetest person we have met over here in Triad, no doubt.
That's about it. Writing to nobody in particular, but the writing gotta get done.