I am awake and I am at work. I am hoping to get through the day without any casualties.
Seriously, no one can take me anywhere.
I get hit on at work. I get hit on at the gym. I get hit on walking around my neighborhood. I get hit on in bars. I get hit on via phone calls. I get hit on in restaurants. I get hit on while on a train. I get hit on in the rain, with a fox, in a box, with a mouse, in a house. I get hit on here and there. I get hit on everywhere. 
The attention is nice, but honestly. Please. Why can’t the attractive ones like me? I always get the weirder ones. 
Maybe it’s because I am a weirder one…
All I want is the adorable boy at the gym. That’s it. Just that one. So far, he’s turning out to be exactly the way he was in my head before I started taking his class and it’s just getting worse and worse. And I’m shy, so I pretend to be coy and mysterious which probably just translates to uninterest and unfriendly-ness. I wish I was outgoing and charming, but I’m not. I’m quiet, awkward, annoying, arrogant, self-deprecating, tired, restless, moody, opinionated, nerdy, immature, and usually crazy. I probably don’t possess any of the qualities he likes in girls and I’m probably not even close to his type, but every day, there I am at the gym, staring at him and hoping he doesn’t think I’m some stalker. 
What am I becoming. I never really grew up.

Once upon a time,
It was so sunny and warm.
But now it is cold.

Weather haikus. Learn to love them.

I’m not sure how I feel.
I mean, aside from my allergies being back with aggression, I feel sort of…gray. Kind of like the sky today. 
I’ve been doing the same thing for about a year now and I don’t think I really could handle another one. This monotonous lifestyle may be easy but it’s not fun. Or exciting. Definitely not fulfilling. I feel like I talk about how bored I am on a regular basis and I understand that it’s my fault that I’m unhappy. It’s up to me to fix it. I have the power. 
So, why do I feel helpless?
The other day, my boss’s wife called me “sweetie” in a really condescending way. I’m still offended by it. I know she probably didn’t realize how inappropriate it was to call a twenty two year old employee of her husband’s by a pet name she probably calls her fifteen year old daughter, but I still am seething over it. I have a theory that since I look young, people treat me as such, even if they know I’m older. It’s like they look at me and because I’m not wearing makeup and my chest is considerably smaller than it used to be, I get defaulted to teenager status. They could know me for years and still they talk to me like I’m a child. It’s really frustrating because I feel like I act younger because others see me that way. So, I conform and regress because people hold me to a lower standard since I don’t look my age. It’s not fair. And I’m really tired of it.
Although, maybe people see me as younger because I don’t feel like an adult. It’s like a big circle of cause and effect and I can’t figure out the beginning. Either way, it makes me feel like I can’t solve my own problems.
And we’re back to boring and restless.

Tick, tock, four o’clock,
It never comes fast enough.
So I keep staring.

My haikus need practice clearly.

Saturday.
He added me on Facebook.
And I’m pretty sure I almost passed out.
What is wrong with me? As he said, “This is just some guy at the gym that you have a crush on. It’s not set up to be some epic love story.” He’s right. It’s not going to be anything special. Or even anything at all.
It’s just a crush.
I’ve had them before and I’m sure this won’t be my last. So, I really need to cool it and focus on more important things like getting a new job and applying to graduate schools and taking the GRE and scheduling deliveries for tomorrow and getting more muscles and tanning for the summer and not staring at Facebook and not waiting for him to sign on and not staring at his name until it disappears.
Priorities. 
Obsessing is unhealthy. But I have to say it’s a very nice distraction from responsibility. With that being said, I really should get back to work. It’s finally busy.

Answering phone calls
And waiting on customers.
I hate my routine.

Haikus. I missed them.

It’s coming on summer. The trees have buds. The daffodils are coming up around mailboxes. And they’re playing those whiny rock-pop songs on the radio. Oh, I wish I had a river I could skate away on.
It was eighty degrees outside and not even near Christmas at all, but I found myself listening to that song as I was driving home yesterday. It’s such a sad song and really not about Christmas. I wonder she means. She, being Joni Mitchell. A lot of her songs are like that. “‘It’s cloud illusions I recall, I really don’t know clouds at all.’ What does that mean? Is she a pilot? Is she taking flying lessons? It must be a metaphor for something, but I don’t know what it is.” I feel that way about Joni Mitchell. Also about Walt Whitman, but that’s another story.
But, I listen to those songs and I read those poems and I feel like even though I’m not consciously aware, they affect me and I’m better off with it than without it. I like to think of it as furthering my emotional education even if I don’t understand half of the words. I don’t know if it’s osmosis or something else – just reading it seems to help. And it gets me through rainy, cold days that much faster.
Although this song really isn’t about Christmas, it does very nicely as a Christmas song. I think it has something to do with love and loss and even though it’s Christmas and the season of giving, some people find that it really isn’t giving at all. And that can make the holidays seem so gray. Maybe that’s what Joni Mitchell is trying to say.
“I’m so hard to handle, I’m selfish and I’m sad. Now I’ve gone and lost the best baby that I ever had. Oh, I wish I had a river I could skate away on.”
Happy spring.

Another day, another fist bump.
During his class yesterday, a woman asked him what his last name was. Of course, I was thinking, “Oh, oh! I know, I know! Pick me! I’ve known his name for months!” Alas, I kept quiet. Maybe my maturity level is increasing. I will be twenty three in a little less than two months. It’s about time.
Twenty three. It would be exciting if I felt like I was going anywhere in life. I feel stuck somehow and with every day, I feel like I’m just getting more and more lost. I can’t decide whether it’s this living at home in limbo or the fact that I’m working at this dead end job at almost minimum wage, but the fact remains: I need change. I’ve thought about what I want and I just can’t figure it out. Maybe I want too much. I know what I don’t want. 
As per my proclamation of participation, I think it’s getting better. I do need to work on eye contact. I’ve always thought that perhaps I have some form of autism, but that’s never been professionally diagnosed. I could just be significantly socially awkward. I mean, I am really awkward. It could be worse, though. It can almost always be worse.
I was amused yesterday when we were going outside for his class and I held the door open for him. He’s very nice. A gentleman, even. I’m afraid that he’s not how I imagined him, though.
He’s better.
And that was what I was afraid of.

It is seventy five degrees outside and I am officially wearing shorts in the office. I have declared spring. Summer. Sprummer.
The weather is giving me all of this extra energy and I found myself wanting to take two walks yesterday. But, it’s almost too warm. I started sweating and I hadn’t even been jogging. So, I called it quits after one round, but I ate outside. I think that serves as a decent compromise.
I’ve been training with a personal trainer at the gym for a few weeks now. I don’t know if it’s because I’m stubborn or too regimented in my routine, but I find it difficult to adhere to what this trainer believes I should be doing. According to him, no Butterfingers and less carbohydrates. Less chocolate, less bread. I know I should be “healthier” and I recognize that white bread and milk chocolate have little value when it comes to protein. However, in order to complete my crazy cardio, I find that I need those items to get through my workout. I guess I should give it a try, though. I’ll adjust. I really do need more muscle, seeing as I can barely lift fifteen pounds. It’s pathetic. I’m working on it.
I was reading on the treadmill, not looking up, avoiding eye contact. I thought it was going well when other guy went over to talk to someone else. But, that was short-lived. He came over to me and asked me about my life. I really don’t understand this. I think I’m sending out the right signals… Then again, maybe not. 
It would be nice to read minds. I think of this often, especially when I scan the gym from my machine and make eye contact with adorable boy. I really hope he doesn’t know how excited I am about our future life together. That would spoil the surprise.
Also, I’m tired of working six days a week and I’ve only been doing it for two weeks. I want two days at least. Not one. One is not enough.

“Hey, how you guys doin’?”
I get too excited about it.
Finally, the weather is starting to change from cold and wet to warm and dry. Today the temperature is supposed to reach the mid-seventies and I am actually looking forward to my twenty minute walk with the next door neighbor’s dog. It’s been too windy lately and any time I spend outside is rushed so I don’t have to feel the Canadian freeze that had decided to make its new home here in Maryland. But, at least it seems to be moving out today.
Maybe I’ll start running outside. And maybe I’ll start running by his house, which I located sometime Friday evening. Something must be really wrong with me if I think roaming around the streets, trying to find his car, is perfectly normal. If he found out, I may or may not have a restraining order taken out against me. I really need to cool it. 
I take comfort in the fact that I have now given him a reason to talk to me.

“Dreams like a podcast,
Downloading truth in my ears.
They tell me cool stuff.”

Sadly, I am not the one who came up with that haiku.
So. If other guy insists on continually acknowledging me at the gym instead of ignoring me like I’d prefer, I’m going to snub him. It’s easier to just not make eye contact, but he has progressed to walking by me and calling my name. So, I have decided. I’m not going to wave and smile back. I’m going to be curt. And terse. And frown. I’m not okay with this I’m-not-the-bad-guy-as-I-still-talk-to-you-like-a-friend crap that he only does to ease his own guilt. Stop it. I’m mean.
My theory is that if he thinks I am angry with him, it’ll probably bother him because he obviously cares enough to try to be friendly. Maybe by ignoring him, it’ll make everything go away.
Or maybe not.
Either way, I hope that my plan will eventually stop him from talking to me. 
Now that I’ve spoken with the adorable boy, I don’t even want to think about other guy. On Monday, I wonder if he’ll talk to me. 
I hope he talks to me.
And so begins my Friday afternoon pining. Welcome.

I did it.
While my friend was training, I walked over with the pretense of saying hello to her. As soon as I walked over, he said, “I see you here all the time! Hi!” He seemed so excited to meet me. 
I swooned.
And after his class was over, he fist bumped me. I’ll admit, a fist bump is not the romantic scenario I imagined for when we first touched, but I’ll take what I can get. 
I feel like a sixteen year old when I write entries like this. It’s like an homage to my highschool days and how there wasn’t anything else that was more important than boys. Actually, most of my entries revolve around relationships. I need something else to say.
Perhaps by May, I’ll have found a new, more interesting job and with it, be able to use my English degree to some extent. The closest I get to using my education here is when I send emails to various companies and individuals on behalf of my boss and usually, I have to use simple words because the recipient is not even a highschool graduate. Oh, woe is me, not being able to put my parents’ thousands of dollars to good use. I literally could do this job with just middle school education. In fact, that’s probably how people end up in retail. Frankly, if I knew that this is what I had to look forward to after graduation, I would have probably stayed in education and went for a teaching degree despite how difficult it is to get started in that field with English. But, if my friends can stick it out, I should be able to as well. 
Graduate school? Graduate school. Or maybe some low level courses at a community college. I really need to stop getting so comfortable with keeping my ambitions in my head.
He took a picture of me (and the rest of the class) and put it up online. What is that? He’s had this class now for months and he’s had all that time to take a picture. Why last night? Because he obviously wanted a picture of me. 
And we’re back to the crazy.

I’m cringing. 
Why? Everything.
I will write every day. Even if it’s not here. 
I’ve got to start participating in life instead of passively living through the internet. Participating will get me a lot farther and more accomplished than hiding behind a computer.
At least, I’m hoping. 
I suppose participating means actually talking to adorable boy. But talking to adorable boy is not as easy as pretending to talk to adorable boy, which is why, I suppose, that I choose to not participate.
Yesterday, while I was on the elliptical, I swear I caught him looking at me or at least in my general direction from across the gym. I’ve done this too many times, though: stared at someone enough that they notice and start staring back, simply because I started it.
Also, I think that’s what happened with other guy. 
Because I am a creeper, I may sometimes stare at all of those who work at the gym and other guy may have thought that when I looked at him, I was interested in sleeping with him. Which was not true. I look at everyone in order to throw adorable boy off from discovering my intentions, but I think my staring was misconstrued. At least, I think. Because why else would I be on someone’s radar?
Granted, for some reason, I’ve been spoken to by numerous individuals at the gym recently, so perhaps I’m someone worth noticing. However, it could be because I stare and they’ve seen and accepted my imagined invitation for being social. Or other guy has taken to announcing my sexcapades to anyone who will listen. I’d prefer the former.
Can I just live unnoticed? Please? I prefer to keep to myself.
That completely defeats my previous motion to participate.
I should just accept that I’m crazy. And hilariously socially awkward.
I’m cringing, again.