magicbeans. nothing if not awkward.

so it's tuesday, but the beginning of the workweek, monday really, for all intents and purposes, with all the lethargy and depression that that entails. and yet i was looking forward to work today. my sunday/monday weekend had left me feeling numb and empty and i wanted somewhere to go, something to do.

over breakfast, at david's bagels, i started a letter to stef. longhand. on a small, yellow, thin-ruled pad that i got from the office supply closet at work. i plan on writing these letters with some regularity. i don't know if i will ever send them, but i am going to transcribe them and put them online. i set up a new mushroom sub-site, 'dear stef', subtitled 'letters from new york'. a lot of the content will overlap with magicbeans. but i hope to find a different voice.

i'm sure that the letter has a lot to do with my state of mind today. work wasn't any different, i made labels for the cd backups of old projects, i touched up and printed the background for material sample boards for qwest, i scanned some sketches of a project for ups, but i felt empty all day. lost.

on a break i jotted down a note to myself: '[i] still can't fathom the idea of [us] not being together. [it] just doesn't seem like it could be right.'

i wrote some more of my letter at dinner. masala dosa. indian beer. i've been jumping around a little, but by the time i paid the check i had gotten to the end of my first day at work. do i tell her (she is the 'you' on the other end, even if i never send the letter) that when i left work i was crushed with a wave of depression because all i wanted to do was go home and tell her about my day? probably not.

i should probably try to stay as upbeat as possible. at the beginning of all of this, jeanette told me that she had been thinking a lot about the situation. about what would turn her around if she ever snapped and left daniel. and she said that she thought it would be nice to hear what was happening in his life. how his days were going. she suggested that i email stef and just tell her what i was doing, the little things that made me think of her. even if she didn't check her email all that often. maybe she'd come home from a lousy day at work and there'd be two or three emails from me, and they would make her smile.

'maybe i should send the letter,' i thought getting off the subway. 'if writing it is making me fell as if she is still in my life, maybe reading it will have the same affect on her.'

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i may have needed this awful situation to really start my life rolling, closest i've ever been to rock bottom and all that, but it just seems wrong that she's not in my life, you know?