Working Through and Finding Out

So, I've been working through this sensation that I've been having, this weird feeling of being alone and deserted. I realized that I'd forgotten the feeling when I went to school because I was always around friends. Then, when I came back home, I went back into my geographical seclusion, living 13 minutes from my nearest friends, with the exception of my "brother" who works all the time. Being so far from friends without a car leaves me to live by myself when at home while my mobile friends travel around to each other's houses. You know, I've always wanted to live in a neighborhood where a friend stops by to see if I can hang out. That never happens with me. I live so far away on a main road, so such an invitation would mean my friends risking their lives in my driveway and taking their valuable time to come see me. Thus, any time with friends must be planned so as to allow for equal accommodation to all.

It's all in my head. The feeling of being out of the loop and all is just made up. What it feels like, well, it feels like my friends go on without me and don't give a second thought to my not being there. I like to think they do. Maybe they don't say like, I wish Steve were here, but I like to think they acknowledge the difference I would make were I to show up. But I'm shaking that isolated and left out feeling. I'm getting it. As far as my Love, well, I got a phone call again at 11 tonight which lasted for 9:35, which is better than before. Still not the hour long conversations of summers ago, but it was nice to hear her voice again. Too bad she brought up the possible lack of communication with her that looms in the distance a mere two weeks from now which will last a week. :-/ Such is life huh? :-) But it makes things, well, maybe not more fun, but it'll be something to look back at and say "well, I made it through that fine".

We've got the company Christmas party tomorrow. I work at a small company of 4 (counting myself) employees, the owner, sometimes the owner's wife, and the owner's son. It's um, it's not the best, but I certainly can't knock it. I work with my mom and dad and get a fair pay. It's tedious work, but I've got XM Satellite radio, usually Old Time Radio, to keep me company. The party tomorrow is lunch at Bugaboo Creek with the lot. It should be ok. But recently, I was feeling like I'm not considered an employee, like I'm just seen as the employees' son and not an actual worker. This works against me when the time for a raise comes around and Christmas bonuses and other worker stuff. Because the boss' son, who makes the decisions, knows much about my life, he passes judgment and takes advantage of knowing my life.

I didn't mind not getting a Christmas bonus. I mean, I'm not there all the time. But I look at Justin, who was there for just under a year and who got a Christmas bonus, and Jan, a temp, who didn't even work for the company and who also lasted a year and received a bonus. I've been there for um, going on 2, 2.5 years now, and the owner and his son passed me by as they carried the Christmassy Citizen's Bank envelopes. My mom promptly took me to Sullivan Tire to spend her bonus on the car which had an alignment and camber issue. With the camber slightly off and the right side alignment pulling inward, the drive was quite an experience prior to the fix. The improper alignment and situation of the axels and tierods made the tires wear down much faster than they should normally; they were worn down to the wear bar after 18,000 miles instead of 40,000. This misalignment was a result of a slight accident that we got into leaving our driveway 9 months ago, but was not diagnosed as an issue by Bonneville (to be expected) right after. Welcome to my driveway.

But I'll muscle through. Money's money right, no matter how much respect and dignity you have to sacrifice to get it right? :-p I'm kidding. I have my limits. But my hands are tied. I need the money, and the owner's son isn't there too much, he doesn't really work that much, so I don't need to hear it unless he gets bored and feels like pacing the floor arguing with the 65 year old war vet about politics (of which nobody at work knows the real facts), college (mostly accusing me of getting into drugs and sex), and other things that are usually put downs of our lifestyle because the owner happened to stumble onto money and the son got spoiled.

This brings me to how I get jabbed at work. Aside from the painful razor blades and 1200 degree torches that I have to use, and the chemicals I have to mix and the glasswork I have to do, there is little difficulty apart from having my morals and values brought into question. I do not advocate alcohol or drugs in any way, shape, or form. When the owner's son make the comment "Steve, you gotta work on lighting matches to light that hash pipe" my only response that jumped to the front of my mind was "we're not reliving your college days here Marc". He then promptly glanced at the floor and walked pigeon-toed to the front where his office sits. I know that wasn't the most tactful response. But I know my bounds, I really do. I am not one to act without thinking. Actually, usually I think too much about what I'm going to do. But I've done this before. He's talking in front of my parents accusing me of changing when I leave the house. This doesn't help my case when trying to get out of the house to see friends.

But in any case, it's all getting better I s'pose. I'm seeing my Katie tomorrow night for dinner and we're going to spend the night together for a while. That, you can be certain, is much anticipated. I really miss her you guys, in case you haven't been able to tell. I've never written so much as when I can't be with her. She's my incitement for all this telling the world my life thing. If you don't like it, well, I suppose you would've stopped reading, but if you're still reading and not liking what you're reading, blame her. :-p Goodnight all, take care, think about what you're doing, what you will do, but don't count out spontaneity, it'll help keep things lively.

earnestly and contently
Steve

If the plane goes down...then what happens next?