Saturday, March 11, 2006

Someone Who Speaks My Language

A woman who I recently met online has done nothing but understand everything I have told her about myself and why I am the way I am, why I say the things I say, and what has happened to me to construct who I am today. She has some things in common that makes it easier for her to understand me, such as being an only child and being an articulate, intelligent black person and being looked at oddly for it. But she's a sports fan too, basketball specifically. I was talking to her about one of my favorite ballers, Jason Kidd, and she immediately says: "Oh yes, he's one of my favorites too. I really like how he rebounds, he's such a good rebounder for being a point guard." As the heavens opened and cherubs with harps began to play...oh wait, that was just me overreacting to feeling a connection with someone again. But it's really good to talk to a woman about things other than sexual tendencies. Seems that my sports "expertise" has always been a turn-off for the women I've met, or it's just not something they're so into that they would want to have a conversation about it. But I've always had a feeling that my ultimate soulmate would be able to diagram the pick-and-roll, extol the virtues of the suicide squeeze, and explain why the West Coast offense is all wrong for Michael Vick. I just have to learn patience and wait and see where things go with this lady. Several years ago, I would have proposed to her after she made that Jason Kidd statement, and I would not have been joking. I have to train myself to pull the reins and trot instead of always sprinting forward. Life will probably be much more enjoyable for me once I master that skill. Not to mention how much more enjoyable dating me would be for a woman, without me exerting constant pressure to love me NOW! DAMMIT! RIGHT NOW!! Very not cool.

Next week is my last week training for my job. After next week, I will go to my regular schedule of Thursdays through Mondays, and I will report to my module on the live floor and submit to whatever work they put in front of me. Hopefully they will be patient. My big problem right now with the work is my low productivity. I can be a perfectionist, so I will absentmindedly spend five minutes taping something back together that was ripped during the mail opening process because I'm trying to line up the tape perfectly. Or I will take five or ten seconds every time I place a check or an envelope on its pile straightening the pile instead of just piling the shit up and ironing it out after I'm done opening all the envelopes. I've never watched the TV show "Monk," but that's what I call myself when I find myself doing those things. I'm simply going to have to train myself to stop doing those little things that take away from the number of checks I process in a day, which is nowhere near the 70% of the expected level that I should be at after my first month. More Efficient, Less Bullshit. Hmm, that's catchy. I'll have to get that tattooed on me somewhere after I get the Ticking Time Bomb tattoo.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Good you met a real woman not a little meek white girl.