Hell in the Hallway

I received this quote in a spam email about preventing heart attack in women.
"Whenever God Closes One Door He Always Opens Another, Even Though Sometimes It's Hell in the Hallway!"

People hate change. It's a fact. Last night, I was out with some friends, and one suggested I recall all the great sex I had with an ex. "No way, dude. I just got off the floor, stopped crying all the time, and started eating again. I can't afford it." Without that one variable, I feel so much better off! But there sure was Hell in that Hallway.

I had a breakfast date last weekend. He's a nice guy, but it was a no go. My friends don't always understand these things, but I think it's just because they love me and really really want something in particular for me. I don't blame them for not trusting me with myself -- I barely trust myself with myself anymore. I need to stay on task!

But, anyway, that guy took a group of inner-city 7th graders camping last week. He told me a story about one girl who said she would have a "nervous breakdown" if she couldn't check her email. He didn't ask her what email she was expecting. But I've had those thoughts -- panic from not keeping up with my email, not keeping up with my friends.

In fact, I've fallen rather behind over the last week or so with Bike-to-Work Day. And my art started selling; so, I desperately needed to make more. I developed the wrong attitude towards my social life -- that it wasn't necessary. I forgot how much I need it to be happy. When I felt unhappy, I had to think for a while to remember why and what I could do to fix the problem.

My instinct tells me to sit at home and examine my navel. I have learned from experience that that sort of behavior is destructive. So, I must summon the big guns to get myself to a cafe, return calls and emails, and chat with random strangers.

I played Foosball for the first time at the Bike-Away-from-Work Party last week. It turned out one of our competitors works for my company. He said he had my business card taped to his monitor. I'm like a celebrity! Next thing I knew, he's emailing me asking for all kinds of things I said at the party I could get him. I should never talk to people. No seriously, the party turned out to be rather useful. I should bill for that time.

So, yeah, I'm in a room now and out of the hallway. I don't know what the purpose of this room is yet, but it feels OK right at this moment. That's the best I can ask for, I guess.