LocaKitty (locakitty) wrote,

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Firstly, this was a great post today. Kiki is great. I've kind of been feeling like that lately. No matter what I do, I'll still be fairly klutzy, sometimes absent minded, goofy, awkward, and have big feet. I really hate having big feet. Stupid shoe companies.

Anyways, I mentioned yesterday that sometimes being in your mind for too long lets you travel around to visit old memories. Sometimes they are good ones. I revisited holding the twins for the first time. So freaking tiny (but big for twins) and so adorable. Ok, kind of wrinkly, but adorable nonetheless. I remembered being silly with some of my friends in the dorm. Things of that nature. However, I also visited a few not so pleasant memories. I think this one is the most disconcerting of all. I can't share all of the details because, well, I don't want to really, but I can give you the jist of it.

I was about 8 or 9 years old and was home alone. I was a latchkey kid, so I was home alone for a few hours every afternoon. That may seem like a young age to be alone, but if you knew me back then, you would agree that I was fine. Anyways, the phone rang. I answered it, thinking it was one of my parents, instead it was a man whose voice I did not recognize. He asked if my mom or dad were at home and I (stupidly) said no. Remember, you aren't supposed to let people know you are home alone. Well, I did it. So, he said, Oh, well, I can just tell you then and you can let your parents know the good news.
"Oh, what's that?"
"You have the opportunity for a free trip to DisneyWorld."
Now, what 8 year old is going to turn down a free trip to DW? Honestly. Even though I had been there loads of times, I always liked going back. I asked what I had to do. And here is where the memory goes sour. This is when it turned into an obscene phone call.

I had no idea what was going on, but I knew that something was off when he asked me to touch myself is various places that, well, you aren't supposed to touch yourself unless you are bathing. Keep in mind, I'm 8, so this is my thought processes. I made it through that entire phone call, about 10 minutes total, listening to this guy. I never got those tickets to DW. I never told anyone about the phone call. Even in my 8 year old brain, I knew I'd been had. Of course, I also stopped doing what he asked about 1/4 of the way through, because I just didn't feel right doing it. And, I figured, he couldn't see me anyways.

After about a week with no tickets in the mail, I began to wonder if he knew that I hadn't done those things and that's why I never got the trip. Obviously, I know now that he was a predator, but then I was filled with guilt and shame.

I got in the car yesterday and cried about half way to L's house just from that one memory.

It's amazing that something that small and that old can just throw you in a mood. I've been kind of feeling that funk since yesterday afternoon. I put on the brave face for everyone else, but when I'm finally alone, unless I can find something to keep the thoughts at bay, I just begin to be consumed by all of these memories and thoughts and feelings.

It doesn't help matters that I am ready to thrash people at work. I am so discontent with my current position, some of my coworkers and just...that place in general. The "Oh, you can work all the overtime you want...nevermind, only regular hours this week. KTHXBYE!" What I perceive to be sexual harassment, not insomuch as "if you don't do this you're fired" type behavior, just the objectifying of my chest, various other comments made about women there and the introduction of "The Shocker" today in casual conversation (including the tagline: "Two in the pink and one in the stink"). But, I feel like I can't come out from the headphones, otherwise I'll just hear all of this all day long. I can either go crazy in my own mind revisiting a past that I would like to try and forget or listen to lewd comments.

Then I feel as if I have to defend my beliefs a bit. I'm all for bawdy humor. Hell, I made my grandfather blush with some of the language I produced in a fit of anger, and he's a sailor! I've been known to throw down some dirty jokes in the past, but not.at.work. I also can't really go complain about this because that throws a nice big target on my back. As much as I dislike this job, I need it. I can't afford to miss one week of work or I get thrown in a financial tailspin that is so scary it makes Vincent Price look like a cuddly teddy bear.

I think at this point in the post, my brain has just stopped functioning. I can't really come up with anything else. I could share almost happy news, my cousin in getting married to his pregnant girlfriend. The almost part is that there was a death on his father's side of the family. The service in the same day as his wedding. That's always fun. I think I am going to go to bed, let Vera curl up near my legs and feel her purr and just try to think happy thoughts while I try to drift off. Tomorrow will be a better day. It has to be. I don't know if I can stand another shitty day.

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