Ugh.

Ennui- [ahn-wee, ahn-wee, Fr. ahN-nwee] noun a feeling of utter weariness and discontent resulting from satiety or lack of interest; boredom

Yep, that pretty much describes how I feel right now, right this very moment, here at work. Ennui. It has become my new favorite French word, 2nd only to accoutrement.

Work is so totally and completely DEAD. In my almost 5 years here, I’ve never seen it this bad. And the thing of it is, it doesn’t look like it’s going to get much better in the near future, particularly for me. I already have one foot out the door.

Even under the best of circumstances, I’d be antsy. Even if I was a busy little beaver at work, I’d be counting the days until I could leave this all behind. (Hmmm… Maybe that can be my next task, count the days. Perhaps I can set about finding a way to install a countdown clock on the blog.)

Anyway. I feel like I’m withering away here. Not physically. Mentally. Nothing interests me. I’m convinced I’ve come to the end of the internet. I don’t even have the energy to make this blog entry half interesting.

I'm Still Alive!

I'm still here! Nothing funny or exciting has happened to me in a while. I haven't been on any dates since I canceled my Match membership. I'm still on eHarmony, but not really putting too much effort into it.

I've said it before, and I will say it again, eHarmony is dating for the socially awkward (and I refuse to count myself among the socially awkward). You should see some of the "matches" they send me. They're kind of pathetic. I can't even make fun of them, it makes me too sad.

I am, however, communicating somewhat actively with one guy on eHarmony, G. He actually seems like a really nice guy. He's fairly good looking, has a normal job (in IT), but is certainly nothing too exciting. Although, interesting enough that we may have coffee on Sunday.

In lieu of dating, (and smoking, I'm still not smoking! I think it's been 6 or 7 weeks! And not nearly as difficult as I thought it would be. I feel a little bit bad that I'm not struggling with this more. Like maybe I wasn't a true addict. Although I do have smoking dreams.) I've been working out. A LOT. Like six-days-a-week-a-lot. I tend to be a bit obsessive-compulsive, (Really? Me? Never.) and throw myself into stuff whole hog. At least working out is good for me. I could be throwing my obsessive-compulsive self into fire breathing or drag racing. (hee hee)

My new trainer, T, is great. He's super young, I think he's like 22. A recent college grad who is working on the Great American Novel. My friend F and I have gone back and forth over whether or not T is gay. Then T showed me the heart tattoo on his butt, explaining that it was due to his love for the Care Bears as a child. That settled that. I think the Fitness Manager at my gym (who is also a gay man whom I just love) likes to hire eye candy, as all of the trainers are really young and really cute. (Ooooh, like this one guy, J. He looks like a very young John Stamos. Yum.)

And, lastly, not to gross anyone out, but... Can anyone tell me why gym restrooms always smell like poop? Seriously! No matter which gym you go to (and I frequent two different gyms) all the restrooms smell like poop. All the time. It's gross. Also? While we're at it? Why can't they give us actual paper towels to dry our hands? I hate the air dryers, and I hear they are less sanitary. Plus, they very rarely work, with the button dangling from the front by it's Slinky-like spring.

Alright, I'm done ranting and raving. I will try to lead a more exciting life in the near future. I have some plans this weekend that could potentially turn out really bad or really good. I will totally fill you all in afterward.