The number 42 seems to be stuck in my alleged brain, perhaps just a mild throwback to Douglas Adams “The Hitchhikers Guide to the Universe” or perhaps my upcoming birthday in four months and two days…wow, that’s a 4 and a 2 weird huh….Have I mentioned I am a bit A.D.D. for those who don’t know what the is it means attention deficit disorder, never been diagnosed but I have noticed how easily it go sideways on a conversation… like now for instance....where was I, I say that to the little voice inside me. You know that little voice that is suppose to keep your mind on topic. The one that you talk to when your alone or, the one that talks to you when you’re playing cards, or working on a presentation that you don’t really want to be working on, or sacrificing chickens to the voodoo spirits or…well you get the idea, I mean I don’t do anything crazy like playing cards but you still get the idea…
where was I again?
….42 that’s right. I am not sure if it’s a sign or if I am being overly perceptive, however in my fortune cookie at lunch, my lucky numbers are 4,7,9,11,22,31, 42 add 4 and 7 and 31 and you get 42, add 9, 11 and 22 and you guessed it or your just good at math, 42. Mileage on my car 194,042…can you believe I have almost gone 200,000 mile in a ford? That has got to be some sort of record…sorry, A.D.D kicking in…, arrived at work today at 7:42, 42 junk mail in my inbox, mostly porn sites and Viagra offers…think someone’s trying to tell me something. Clearly Douglas Adams was correct, 42 is the answer to life’s question, but what is the question is the question…that doesn’t make sense the question is what is the question???
These are the things that run through my alleged ADD Mind at lightning speed as I try to focus for a brief few moments at my pressing daily activities, but let’s worry about that later back to my story…I died last night didn’t I, if so what the hell am I doing in Phoenix Arizona working for a small architectural firm run by an insane type ‘A’ plus a million personality disorder? Today in the staff meeting he went around the room saying good things about everyone at the table, finding just the slightest positive thing he could to each and every one of us…oh wait, except me, skipped right by me boss, what about the 250K fee I just brought in the door, saving pretty much everyone’s ass last month, no, how about the 20 hours overtime I put in to get that design proposal out last week, ya know I worked right through the weekend for you, no, nothing huh…of course at this time in my life, I have no balls whatsoever, so as loudly as I was thinking this nothing, not a sound at all came out of my mouth….I believe this speaks volumes to me.
This guy is the king at head games, I have never met anyone like him. It’s like he has a massive orgasm every time he fucks with someone’s head, even better is he’s able to break them, sick bastard….God I love this guy! Not sure if he knows that I get it or if just hopes I get it. It’s not what is said but rather what is not said that speaks the most for a person. He knows that I know that I am doing what he expects, and he knows that I know that I do not take compliments well nor do I appreciate them, compliments and soft soap ore for the week and insecure.
Meetings over, and once again he goes on my list of people that can kiss my ass today… but what about last night, didn’t I die? So if I died, why am I here? My family and friends all see me as a relatively stable, successful upper middle class role model. Have a bunch of kids, lost count after 3, nice home in la de da la de da North Scottsdale, two cars two dogs two cats, two birds, two lizards…WOW, what is with the twos , who am I, Noah! What is success, am I successful cause I have this stuff, or because I fit into some sort of predefined mold. How is it that I remember dying yesterday so vividly and clearly, but my own family and friends seem like a dream, what is real, what the hell was I talking about….Oh God, now my A.D.D. has A.D.D
Thursday afternoon sitting in an airport bar at LAX, waiting to catch my flight back home. I started up a conversation with this lady sitting next to me, pretty attractive, long dark hair, sort of Italian looking with dark eyes, probably my age, but wearing her 40 something’s much better than me. Don’t know what possessed me to talk to her, most of the time I keep my head down and continually debate the worlds of chaos streaming around in my brain, but next thing I knew we were at a table having another drink an talking about childhood, something about her face was so familiar, I swear I’d seen her somewhere before. I told her about my first girlfriend Michelle, we were just two kids holding hands in the snow covered parking lot of St. Anselms Elementary school... really? I thought, what does she care about my first girlfriend, but she seemed genuinely interested. So I went on about what an idiot I was and if I only knew then what I know now I would have never been such a jerk. “I’m sorry, she said, that’s my flight, I need to go, it was really nice seeing you again John….and she left. Wait! How did she know my name, I never told her my name, what the hell! I had to know, so I charmed the bartender into looking at credit card receipt and give me her name, worked like a charm, after I handed her 20 bucks, she wouldn’t give me the last name but she said the first name was Michelle… ”attention all passengers southwest flight number 42 to phoenix has been delayed….”. Thanks god, you really love to fuck with me don’t you?
The funny things about dreams, you never know how you got to where you are in the dream, you just seem to be and then your somewhere else and you accept it, well at least your mind accepts it as totally rational.
Two days have passed since the staff meeting where my boss tried to screw with my head, and I have with absolutely no Idea what has happened over the last 48 hours. I am trying to remember how and why I was at LAX. I don’t have any projects there and every time I fly to California, I typically go to San Diego or San Jose, so How did I get to LAX and what have I done since the Monday morning liars club meeting…Monday morning Liars club was a pet name I gave to our weekly staff meeting, based on pretty much everything said in the meeting was a lie and was designed to cover your ass. So it’s Wed. afternoon I’m at LAX and…ADD again …. All of a alarms go of, what’s going on, who opened a door they weren’t suppose to…. what the……
Tuesday morning, not again, you have got to be kidding me….Well at least I didn’t die last night, that happened two nights ago….oh great now that’s gonna stick with me all day.
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