Derp.

Rut: 2: a usual or fixed practice; especially: a monotonous routine <fall easily into a conversational rut>
-Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary

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Okay, well maybe 'rut' isn't the term I'm looking for. Maybe it's more like depression-but-not-really, moping-sort-of-but-quietly…something along those lines.

It's not for lack of anything to do, hence the 'rut' definition not applying to me; I don't feel I'm exactly in a routine. Sure, my shifts are relatively the same in terms of time—which is fine—and there are many exciting things happening around me, both at work and home. At work, my shifts are varied in terms of the people who come in, the range of the moods of customers, of the attitudes towards the Rewards cards, of my knowledge of products (i.e., I know close to nothing about dogs except that harnesses are better than collars). I've been having incredibly vivid dreams. My cousin just had his appendix removed, and my boyfriend's brother-in-law is about to have his kidney removed. Charity and I went to the midnight premiere of Harry Potter, and Tommy and I went to see Brüno and then Harry Potter for my second time. He came over the other night and we watched movies.

My life is nothing short of exciting. Every day there's something new.

But I've found myself apathetic towards many things lately. I unknowingly locked my keys in my car yesterday upon driving back from rescuing my mom by meeting her at a gas station to give her money to get the precious resource that's far too expensive but better than the $4+ it was last summer. Today when I discovered the 'missing' keys, I knew I would be late for work (and I was exactly seven minutes late—thanks, my affinity for and tendency towards connections with sevens).

But I didn't really care. Not because I feel like the job is expendable or because I thought I would get fired for one instance of being mildly late. But I just couldn't bring myself to stress out about it. Maybe it's because I knew I could get into my car via my "ghetto right window," as I described to Kevin later, and my removable antenna. I actually am excited about babysitting, though, oddly enough. Maybe because I know with a five-year-old and a nearly-two-year-old, I've got to be non-monotonous.

But I'm flying for the first time ever next month. And I don't really care at the moment. I know I'll be excited and nervous come 12 August, but right now, I really can't bring myself to feel anything. I've got a crochet project to finish for a gift, but I don't really care to pick it up and dig out the pattern at the moment. School's starting in almost a month. Eh. My birthday's next Monday and I forgot to request off, so I'm going to talk to Tiffany about swapping. If not, meh. It's not like I'm going to be 21 yet anyway, so who cares. Even then, if I were going to be 21 and had to work still, I doubt I would care. That's how apathetic I'm feeling lately.

I guess it really does have to do with Joseph being out of the country. I promise I'm not annoyingly melodramatic like I was in the early stages of our relationship ("You're going away for a day?! NO! HOW WILL I SURVIVE! That sort of annoying thing, you see). But it's still weird. We've gone a month without seeing one another. But we don't talk often, and it's just made me apathetic towards everything except my friends and family, which is good…and bad. Even his re-arrival date, 7 August, seems kind of "meh" to me. I'll be glad to see him (you), but 7 August is a few weeks off, and I'm stuck in the moment. "Stuck in a moment and you can't get out of it," says Bono.

Whatever, I guess the point is that I need to snap out of this.

Mom's going to be fifty on 4 August. Yeah, I'm doing my dates European-style now. Don't ask why, because I'm afraid I can't answer. Anyway, I really want to plan something for her, or do something. Anybody have any ideas? Tommy's mom mentioned baking a cake, but I'm not sure.

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Okay, on an unrelated note, I have been forcing myself to have better posture lately. I don't know if it's that and my more confident air or if I've just noticed it more, but more men have been openly hitting on me/trying to pick me up or get my phone number. I don't know why, but it makes me extremely uncomfortable. I'm talking older men, in/around their forties. I have no problem with older guys (although I have never thought of dating one because, unsurprisingly, being in a relationship makes me not care about dating others, although I will admit to an insignificant, schoolgirl-type crush on a regular at Starbucks—tall coffee with room—who reminded me of Lupin from Harry Potter), but the way they come across is so creepy. One instance happened in PSP last week. I couldn't believe it. The gall of some of these men, thinking they could just get a girl to give him her phone number after ringing up a transaction. What is their problem?

Firstly, you are not that smooth. Secondly, you could be my father. Thirdly, ew, just ew. Even if I were looking, sir, you would not be in my range of choices.

I know I'm just getting introduced to the world of men which will be at my disposal as I age, but ugh, it just sickens me. I have nothing against men. I am not one of those women who touts anti-men propaganda and refer to them as "all pigs, all of them!" and in fact, that kind of talk makes me sick. But leave me alone, please. There's a difference between being friendly and trying to give you my number, yeah?