"Can't you hear me?" I'm typing on the board!

Wasted another day at Crap&Blahblah. Luckily, F spent the whole day downstairs in her office. Only had to physically be in presence for about three seconds when I handed in some poor fool's application; if they only knew. That occurred around 4:00-ish, only had two hours left, and felt relatively better at that point.

Unluckily: I felt fine going into work and the first half hour or so, and then suddenly !bam! Panic attack/anxiety attack. Hot sweaty palms, sweaty legs, tight-tight chest, short breathes only, need to lay down in fetal position, urge to release bowels, foggy thinking with A.D.D., and the yearning to rush out the front door and never return.

I think this went on for about two hours, maybe more. There weren't too many customers today at all, so I didn't have to deal with that madness: keeping it together is hard enough without the added test of smiling and "going out of your way" to help some Rich-helpless-needy North Shore-ian. It took me forever to go through the Receiver (list of shit that came on the truck today), especially, since my demotion, this isn't my freaking job anymore! But, because I like the manager (S.R.) of the department I covered today, I did this job willingly (and I needed the distraction from previously mentioned Panic Attack) and even put out missing merchandise (Popcorn!) and stocked some selves (Canisters!) and barrels that were low (Frothers!). Finally, it ended enough (just a slight roiling of the guts) that I could make conversation and/or chat up the customers.

I even tried a small attempt to flirt with J.S., who looked pretty today. She wore her hair almost all the way out, instead of tied back like usual. If therapy works (if it ever freaking starts), I may ask J.S. out for a drink or something. If/when this happens, and if she says yes, this will be the first date in a VERY long time. I have been too fucked up to get fucked. (And that's fucked up in the un-fun mental way, not the fun way.) And I'm not even saying I think it'd come to that (sex), just that I've been too out of my head to even think about starting any type of relationship. And I don't even know to just what extent I like J.S. I mean she's cool at work in the sense that we share some of the same attitudes, she's seems real not a"phony." She's Italian, got the Roman nose, longish blondish hair (that I like when she wears it out, especially when she straightens it), an easy laugh, deepish voice, a kickin' bod, and reminds me (looks-wise) of my friend L.C. who moved to Seattle three years ago and miss.

Oh yeah, my flirt attempt? She laughed at whatever I said and then told me I was "a riot." *sigh* always the Jerry Lewis, never the Brad Pitt. *groan* now that I cut my hair shorter, I even look like Lewis' picture on his IMDB listing. "Hey Layyyydies!" Maybe I should move to France. He's considered le hott-ness there, no?

But anyway.

Thank God for The Walkmen's Bows&Arrows. The song "The Rat:" best. song. ever.