Today was a LONG day, or maybe it was yesterday, or maybe the day before... I can’t tell the difference. The day started on the 13th. I got up at 6am that morning, much like other mornings where I just can not sleep anymore. My report time for that day was 1655L (4:55pm local time for you non-military time tellers)
Originally I was supposed to go to Nassau, then to Boston, then to Oklahoma City, and stay there over night and go back to Miami..
Originally??? Yes, that’s right, like a lot of things in my life, even THAT can’t stay constant?? The trip changed, and it was so nice of them to notify me of this. (hear the sarcasm?)
So what was a 12 hour day or work, turned into a 18 ½ hour day of work. This usually wouldn’t be that bad, except I got up at 6am, and had I have known, I would have not gone to Panera, but actually gone home and take a nap. I was not informed this until I got into work. (They are supposed to notify you of such changes)
After sitting in an airport for 6 hours, we commercial back to Miami; through Charlotte of course!
I was only able to sleep 3 hours.
When I got home, I must have been completely out of it. I say this because when I woke up from my 3 hour nap, I am naked. I don’t mean without a shirt, or I took my socks off in my sleep, I mean birthday suit fashion naked.
I get up to use the restroom again because my damn bladder seems smaller since my surgery. As I turn around to wash my hands (yes people, I even wash my hands when I am at home, how many of you can say that, NASTY FOLKS WITH NO HOME TRAININ!) Anywho, my underwear are hanging on the faucet. Don’t ask, because I have NO idea how they got there…well, I obviously put them there, but I have no clue what possessed me to put them there.
At the time of typing out this, I have only slept 3 maybe 4 hours since 6am on the 13th. It is now 12:54am on the 15th – you do the math!
Since I have been sitting here, the internet has gone in and out about 500 times, I haven’t a friend in Miami, I am not sure if I want to do something, or not. I hate it when I get this fatigued! I guess its part of the job description.
When I get this tired, I get VERY philosophical, and really over analyze most things in my life.
I think about how difficult it is to make friends here in Miami. You would think that a city that is so diverse and open would be easy to make friends. Not so much.
The other day I was sitting in the Panera in Doral (Miami), I was really hit by why it is that I dislike this city so much.
There is a table sitting to my right of 3 girls and 1 guy, talking about weight. One girl probably weighs 100 pounds, and she is talking about how she doesn’t eat carbs since she got so fat.
The guy is discussing how he drinks laxative shakes 3 times a day to help him stay thin.
The other girl, is talking about how she takes fiber 2 times a day, so she stays full and it forces her not to eat.
Then there is another couple sitting directly across from me speaking in Spanglish. They are arguing about trying food that white people eat. How when you do it, you “lose” your culture. Um, knock knock dummy, you’re speaking SPANGLISH and you’re talking about losing your culture? Dumb bitch!
There is another group of upper class white males talking about drugs. Which club you can go to that will get you the best weed, or cocaine. The conversation slowly moved to about how the crime is so bad because there are so many minorities. Going around the table, each of them shared a story how their house, or someone they knew’s house got broke into by someone who was drunk, and foreign. Look around asshole, white guys are the minority in Miami. Another went on saying that someone took a baseball bat at his mailbox because he was white…. Knock knock… NO, its because you’re an asshole, it has nothing to do with your race! You sorry piece of stegosaurs crap!
Looking around the restaurant, no one mixes. Everyone has a friend that is much like themselves. Cubans with Cubans. Whites with whites. Blacks with blacks. You hardly ever see any mixes outside of your own race. The sad thing is, it goes further beyond just race. You rarely see Colombians hanging out with Cubans, or a Haitian hanging out with a black person born in the United States. I don’t get it!
How is it in a city that is so vast, and full of so many people, no one mixes? I’m not saying that everyone needs to go out and marry and procreate with a race different than theirs. (if you do, more power to you, mixed kids are usually better looking anyways) I’m just saying that with all the wealth of knowledge and culture and history that each culture and subculture has, why not learn from it? How can you have so much racism in such a diverse place?
I usually strive to meet people of different backgrounds than me, but lately I have tried meeting people with similar interests to me (which isn’t hard because I’m interested in almost any and everything), but it seems it boils mostly down to these things:
1- What kind of a car do you drive?
2- What is it you can do for me, should I befriend you?
3- How much money do you make a year?
4- Are you good looking?
a. If you’re not good looking, when are you getting the plastic surgery to make you good looking?
b. If you have had plastic surgery, when are you getting more?
i. I would like you all to realize that when most people go in for surgery, they can sign a DNR (do no resuscitate) but for the people of Miami, some need to sign a PR Release (Please Recycle) because they are more plastic than flesh!
5- Can you see every single one of your ab muscles
If you meet all of the above, it comes down to “when are you going to stick it in?”
It seems people give you this false impression they want to be your friend. In the end, they are just being selfish, and wanting “in” only if they are getting something out of it.
It is very disheartening. It really does borderline depress me. However I refuse to let it turn me jaded. It’s difficult not to become that way sometimes, but I won’t give in.
Now the road rages on the other hand… that I can’t help, nor do I ever plan on trying to seek help for it… the people here TRULY can’t drive; so I feel I have the right to scream and yell and get pissed! Jesus told me I could, so it’s ok!
I just need to get over it.
I am too tired, which equals too emotional.
I would say I’ll just have some wine, but I don’t like drinking alone, it makes me feel like an alcoholic.
I love it when people (usually those that don’t drink) say “drinking alone makes you an alcoholic”….. I don’t think it’s the drinking alone that makes you the alcoholic, it’s the 7 bottles of wine that does!
By the way, for those who sit wondering…. I put my clothes back on! Sorry to burst that fantasy for you!
Cheers, here’s to a good night’s sleep
“Your mind is like a parachute, it only works when open” ~ Anthony J. D’Angelo
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