There’s a supervisor at my workplace I’ll refer to as “Bossy Blonde,” who has a tendency to stick her nose where it didn’t belong. Usually that meant monitoring what I was doing at my desk even though she wasn’t my boss, and despite the fact that I was working in a division completely unrelated to hers.

I knew she’d be working here tonight, so I began to explore my options. Where could I go to enjoy some privacy (and check my blogging stats) without her peeking in on me? We had an office with a very nice desk and PC that could have been an ideal solution for me, but it got locked up at the end of the day. Not one to give up so easily though, I decided to use the credit card tips I found at Lifehacker today, and tried to jimmy the door open with one of my library cards.

“Frick frick frick! Why can’t these doors ever open up easily like they do in the movies???”

After a few minutes of twisting and prying, nervously keeping an eye out for anyone who might walk in on me, I finally gave up. Ok, this wasn’t gonna work.

I continued to scout my territory, and eventually settled on a nice little corner desk I found hidden out of view by a maze of cubicle walls. It was the perfect spot to hide out for a few hours until I could finally go home.

I settled in, sighing contentedly as I happily logged on and checked my emails.

“Hey Linc! Whatchya doing here??” It was the boss of the section I was hiding in.

“Oh hey!!!!!!!!” I said, wincing as my thumping heart cracked a few ribs, “I’m just umm, hanging out here for my um, meal break, that way nobody bothers me.”

“Oh, ok.” He looked at me with a little uncertainty, then picked up his keys and left.

I looked at the time. Still another 50 minutes to go.

“@#$%,” I muttered. The search for my quiet place continues.

I think I have what might be called an inferiority complex. I have a tendency to put myself down and take everything personally, regardless of whether it is merited or not. If I don’t get a call from someone, I take it personally, even if all it meant was that the person was just busy. I get so wrapped up in how I think other people perceive me that it’s warped my whole perspective on life. If people like me, I’m in a good mood. If people don’t like me, I can barely get out of bed. My whole emotional well being is wrapped up in what other people think of me.

My experience with Uptown Girl has in some ways forced me to deal with this insecurity. She really does seem interested in me, but because it takes her a while sometimes to respond to my emails, I quickly begin to doubt her sincerity and start going into self analysis: “What did I do wrong? What did I say wrong? Did I contact her too much? Too little? Did I offend her somehow, or was she just humoring me until she lost interest?” And then I would pout and feel sorry for myself, wailing that nobody loves me and that I’ll never meet anyone willing to play snugglies with me.

And finally, if only dimly, it began to creep into my mind that my happiness can’t be wrapped up in another person. For the longest time I would think, “if I just met a nice girl, THEN I would be happy.” But it’s dawning on me that I needed to be happy with who I was FIRST before anything else. I had to divorce my emotional state of mind from how others might see me, no matter who that person might be. And a lot of it has to do with not believing God when He says that “I am fearfully and wonderfully made.” If I, despite all my broken parts, am His child, then what should I care if whether people like me or not? The love of many may wax cold, but God’s love endures forever. No matter where I go, where I end up, His love will remain unchanged, and He is with me always. So what is man then, that I should acknowledge what he or she thinks of me?

I knew I had to stop putting myself down, and stop throwing a pity party because I think I’m not good looking or smart, or because I have a disability, or because of this thing or that thing. My self confidence and happiness had to be drawn from the knowledge that I was made in God’s image, and because of that I am special. Anything the Lord made is good and wonderful, and nobody, no matter how much better they think they might be than me, can tell me otherwise.

The nucleus of this revelation began to build within me when I decided not to sit on my hands anymore and just keep emailing Uptown Girl. I was going to be who I was, and trust her at her word that she truly was interested in me. No more game playing. The net result? She responded right away, and we now have each other’s phone numbers. I’m going to give her a call today. No… tomorrow. No… this weekend. Ok, next week maybe?

Well, Rome wasn’t built in a day…

Ayup, every other week I get to enjoy a short 4 days off due to following a flex-schedule. Poor wil me.

I had a couple of things on my mind this week that I was looking to blog about, but now I’m so tired I pretty much forgot about it all. This constant fatigue is something I really need to address soon. Because of my weird working hours, I usually start my job in the middle of the day, and then come home late at night, resulting a wacky sleeping routine where I could find myself getting up as late as 11 o’ clock in the mornings. I’m just not disciplined enough to go to bed at a more righteous hour so I can start the next day like normal people do.

Yet the two most pressing things I need to do is set a schedule to do my law school prepping and prepare my meals accordingly, and then STICK with it. Instead, I have this tendency to get up at 11AM, fire up the computer, and then surf the Internet for the next 10 hours or so.

Not. Good. If I do go to law school, I simply wouldn’t be able to get away with this kind of crazy routine, and even if I could, it’s a very unhealthy lifestyle to follow. So the time has come that I must exert a little bit of discipline, at least to help prepare me for whatever awaits me in 2007. I’m not optimistic that I’ll succeed, but what the hay, I have to try anyway.

My life has lately consisted of getting up in the morning, only to see yet another day go by without me experiencing the slightest bit of womanly affection. Eventually it’s gotten to the point where I’ve become so love starved, that even the slightest platonic gesture addressed in my general direction puts me in a state of temporary euphoria. A friendly smile by a pretty girl might be all it would take to turn me into another sad case of pitiful puppy love. I gobble up these random acts of friendliness and kindness like a starving man wolfing down just enough crumbs of bread to stave off death for one more day.

A sweet girl might put her hand on my shoulder just to say hello, next thing you know I’m camping out on her lawn:

As I think about this, I wonder how my tendency to overly react to these random moments of feminine affection would affect my future relationship(s). Would it freak her out, or will she be flattered by it? I mean I just wouldn’t be able to get enough smoochie smoochies, hugs and snuggling together to ever put me at ease. I have a lifetime of romance and love to make up for, and I suspect it would break like a dam the minute the first girl who actually bothers to pay any attention to me comes along.

Sad that I would find my love life (or lack thereof) reduced to such a pathetic state. I only wonder if I’ll ever be able to crawl out of this lonely abyss.