Okay, I Surrender

Work was basically unsatisfying. Sure, I got some stuff done, but it was all stuff that came up on Monday, or which I discovered in the course of figuring out that stuff that came up on Monday, so I didn't make any progress on the stack of stuff I already have to do. I feel like I'm falling behind. I need to knuckle down and get some of that other stuff done.

My stress level always goes way up whenever I feel unhappy at work, especially when it's because I feel like I'm not doing a good enough job. We're also entering Apple's annual performance review period, which has its own stresses. For instance, wondering whether salary adjustments will come anywhere close to keeping pace with the increases that the Bay Area housing market has seen in the past year. (Given the hit that Apple's market cap has taken lately, it doesn't seem likely.)

Adrienne and I exchanged some e-mail this week, when I followed up on my phone call to her last week. It looks like we are not going to stay in contact or try to explore a friendship. It doesn't look like it's going to work out.

I'm kind of bummed about this, but what can you do? At least there's some sort of closure. I guess in general it's kind of weird to try being friends with someone you dated. I've done it, and it doesn't strike me as weird, though it's not particularly easy, either. Maybe we'll run into each other again someday, but if not, then not.

I've been thinking a lot about my life lately. Mostly not happy thoughts.

I feel like I miss some essential quality necessary to thrive in social situations. I feel like I'm antagonistic towards most people, and not a particularly good friend. A superficial friend, for the most part.

I feel like the time has come for me to admit that I'm just not a very effective social creature, and that I'd be better off spending more of my time on my own, doing my own thing. I've been doing that more and more lately anyway, and have largely been a hermit this week (other than playing Bridge last night at Becky's).

I have all but despaired that I will ever find a romantic partner. I just don't think the kind of person I want exists out there. And even if she does, I'm just not outgoing or confident enough to meet her, and I'm too disdainful of our culture's courtship rituals to have much patience for going through the process of getting involved with her.

And the last couple of days I've had faint memories of things I appreciated about California when I visited here in 1998, or when I moved here last year, such as the colors of the landscape, or the smell of the air, or the distinctive foliage. And I've realized that it's been a very long time since I've noticed, much less appreciated, these things. The thrill is gone, into a black hole of housing woes, money worries, and assorted other neuroses.

And I see now that whatever I was hoping to find by moving to California, I haven't found it. It's not here. And I don't really have the faintest idea where it might be.

And I'm not sure I have the drive or energy to go look for it anyway.

I'm just plodding along in my life. Things don't change very much from month to month. Heck, from quarter to quarter.

I recently wrote to Rebekah that essentially like who I am, but that the kind of person I am has a hard time thriving in this culture. In other words, I think I'm a nice and interesting and thoughtful fellow, a little iconoclastic in my quiet way, but steady and reliable. But that the things I like about myself and the things that interest me aren't generally valued by other people.

Of course, Rebekah thinks I'm excessively negative, and too hard on myself.

I feel old.