Paranoia

I have the distinct feeling that someone who shouldn't be doing so is reading this journal. Mind you I have absolutely no evidence to back the theory up, just this intuitive knowledge that someone in my real life is reading this without my consent. Don't know where this feeling came from, but I've had it for two days now and it's just getting stronger. My intuition is pretty well honed when it comes to shit like this so I'm inclined to believe what its telling me.

*points a finger at the reader* I know you're out there. Don't think you're fooling anyone. If you give even one shit about me, and you must if you're bothering to read this, than be a honey and simply give me the peace of mind of knowing who you are. There's a reply button at the bottom of this entry, I advise you to use it.

Or I could be imagining it.

*shrugs*

Eh, wouldn't be the first time.

Over the last couple days I've been realizing how paranoid I can get, and it's really insignificant things that are bringing it to the forefront. Losing my writing notebook for example. I have this old spiral notebook I take with me to work everyday that I jot poems and story ideas down in. It used to be my old Book of Shadows so there are a couple pages of spells and rituals in the front, but I haven't used it in that cpacity since leaving Wicca.

Anyway, I misplaced it a few days ago. Searched all over my house and couldn't find it. Checked to see if I accidentally left it at work, which I actually do quite often. It was no where to be found. And I got really scared. I mean REALLY scared. The thought of some random stranger, or worse yet one of my CO-WORKERS coming across that notebook and reading all my crappy ass poetry made me so fucking jittery. And when I remembered the ten or so pages of pagan ritual in the forst I just thought "Oh, shit, I can't imagine what anyone would think if they read this!" Eventually I found it sitting safely at home next to my computer, but damn, that day or two it was missing, I was freaking nutzo with worry. Even though I knew there was nothing terribly incriminating in it I just...couldn't stand the thought of someone leafing through it without my say so, without my hand to guide them through any weird shit they might come across.

A similar thing occurred today. I came in, normal time, and hung my coat on the coat rack. Nothing spectacular about that. But when I went to get some money out of it at lunch time, I found that Sebatien's jacket was sitting on the hook I'd originally put mine on, and mine had been replaced on a hanger a couple hooks down. It's nothing incredible, yet I flipped when I saw that someone had moved my jacket. I was like, "What the fuck?!" I just got all these ABSURD visions of someone rifling through my jacket. And even though I don't keep JACK in my coat pockets, the thought of someone touching it or moving it or doing...anything to it just...makes me all nervous!!!

I don't know...I've got this strange fear of exposure only I have no idea what I'm afraid of having exposed! It's not like I have any deep dark secrets hiding in my bookbag, ya know? But I always have this fear that I have done or am doing something wrong that will come back to bite me in the ass. It's based on the belief that nothing I ever do is right. Therefore there is bound to be some wrong with everything I do, own, and am, and because of that i don't want anyone to have any sort of interaction with the stuff I do, own, or am. Which would logically lead to the conclusion that I simply don't want anyone interacting with me at all. But we all know that's not true.

I just don't want to be.........*let's the silence take over.*

"Suffer me if not gladly, than in silence sometimes"

Okay, so....like....*scowles*....I got asked out on a date tonight by one of the security guards, Carlos.

I'm...still pretty speechless as you can see. I've been blindsided. I was so not expecting this, mainly because...I dunno, I've never really noticed Carlos before. I mean, he works security so I see him everyday, say hi to him when I come into the building and...yeah...that's it. I haven't thought any more or less of him than any other cute guy that I've come in contact with since starting this job.

At closing he came up to the library and gave me a note, which, I must admit was a little too junior high for my taste, basically saying that he'd liked me since the first day I came to work at the library, and wanting to know if I'd be interested in going out some time. Just so happens I've been thinking recently that I'd like to go out to dinner at someone elses expense. Also, I get asked out so rarely when someone asks I almost always say yes. So, yeah, I'm booked for this wekend but I told him we could do it sometime next week. And he walked me to the train station at 66th street afterwards, which was nice of him.

Still I'm just.....I dunno. I think I'm in shock. The thought that there is someone who has been liking me for over a month is really strange. Guys don't like me. They just....don't.