From Pathetic Life #8
Tuesday, January 17, 1995
A reader writes:
“When I was in high school, I was on the verge of living a pathetic life, but things turned out otherwise. Now I am a happy, contented person, and yet that pathetic guy is still in there, watching in amazement. There is a pathetic guy in all of us, but only a certain few are privileged enough to live the life.”
— Jim Moul,
Acworth NH
Thanks, Jim. It startles me when something in this zine seems to resonate with someone. Like, maybe I’m not the only freak, or as much of a freak as I thought? Maybe there are more freaks out there? Or maybe most of us are freaks, and the real freaks are the freaks who aren’t.
♦ ♦ ♦
Jennifer, at work, isn’t a thoroughly awful person, but awful is in her wheelhouse. She certainly can be awful. Usually, though, she just gnaws on my nerves, with minor annoyances that feel bigger because I have to work with her every damned day.
Today she brought nuts, three varieties in tin cans, to share with the office. Well, that’s nice. She popped open the tin-can tops, and promptly put plastic lids over each can.
This is an extremely small thing to complain about, but it drove me, well, nuts. Nuts won’t go stale over the course of a few hours. If they’re for sharing, wouldn’t you leave the lids off? Not Jenn. Every time anyone took a nut or a few, they first had to pry off the plastic lid, and then replace the plastic lid after. Anyone who didn’t re-seal the lid was chided by Jennifer.
Yeah, I know. It’s trivial, and I should just say thanks for the nuts. Thank you, Jennifer. A little late, but there, I said it. My complaining probably says more about me than about her.
When I grow up, I’m going to be a cranky old man.
♦ ♦ ♦
At Market & Stockton at lunch, some blue-haired guy handed me a safe-sex pamphlet. Condoms get handed out around town, but this was my first pamphlet, and it’s crammed full of good advice: “Plan ahead. Carry latex wherever you have sex: bushes, bars, baths, bookstores, beds, bus stops, back alleys, BART…”
This town, San Francisco. Sex in bed? Bizarre.
♦ ♦ ♦
Well, I’m out of things to say about a basically boring day. Nibbling the nuts I brought home from work, and I’m strangely tired again. Got ten hours of sleep Sunday night, ten hours Monday, and now it’s 7:03 on Tuesday night and I’m yawning and ready to knock off already. Usually I sleep 5-6 hours nightly, so I ain’t complaining, not feeling sick or anything. If I’ve contracted some rare Nicaraguan Sleeping Disease, though, and one of these nights I never wake up, it’s been nice sharing my pathetic life with y’all.
This is an entry retyped from an on-paper zine I wrote many years ago, called Pathetic Life. The opinions stated were my opinions then, but might not be my opinions now. Also, I said and did some disgusting things, so parental guidance is advised.
Leave a Reply