The Wrong Question.

Everyone always asks the wrong question. everyone does, without fail. I tend to get a lot of questions nowadays. be it from relatives, friends, former coworkers, or current coworkers. I get a lot of questions that are similar to "How do you like SeaWorld?" or "How's the new job treating you?"

those are valid questions, and ones that i always do my best to answer mostly honestly, depending on audience. sometimes i'll tell them it's great, and that i am enjoying myself. which isn't untrue 100% of the time. that answer is usually reserved for people that i have no real connection to, and have no intention of ever moving past small talk status with. sometimes i'll answer "eh" as my response, because it probably sums things up pretty well. Is this the job i wanted? no. but it's certainly not bad, and i really do try not to focus on the negatives of it as much as the positives, because there are undoubtedly positives to my job. on the scale of monosyllabic noises, it goes: eh, meh, bleh; in terms of least to worst feelings. so eh really isn't so bad.

i get to see this almost every day i work. that's pretty awesome.

i get to work next to animals every day. that's pretty damn cool, and is something that i have always wanted to do. but it's not really what i want to do. I get to meet a lot of people, from a lot of different places, and they generally have some pretty great stories to go along with them. at the same time i have developed a sense of xenophobia because of the rudeness of foreigners, and i feel horrible about feeling that way. i am essentially paid (and not paid crap either) to stand around and talk to people, and that is a hell of a job to have; i know intellectually that a lot of people would kill for my job, and my opportunity.

i've made friends here, which i am pleased with. making friends is hard, because usually i just stick to a few very close knit friends for a long time. that's not to say i can't make friends and be social; in fact, i am going to a halloween party this evening, and i have in the past 6 months gone out of my way to be social with these new people i've met, as a way to kind of speed up my usually slow friend making process. it takes a lot out of me, but the people i hang out with seem to genuinely like me, so that is a big plus.

but i miss my real friends.

i now have a place to live, with a person i genuinely like, as opposed to my previous residence. and a room that i can for sure call my own for the next 6 months. i unpacked things for the first time since college move out, which is a big deal for me. even though i know i'm just going to have to repack them in 6 months, i thought that maybe using some of the stuff from college, where i was enjoying myself, would help carry over those same positive feelings. my room is decorated, which i like to do.

i've spent money on things. it gives me a nice shot of dopamine, which can be desperately needed at times. so, for example, my comic book collection has certainly grown. as has my cooking experiments. i like that those things give me a boost, i just wish it was more long lasting.

and i have found out i love penguins.

so, i come back to my main point. everyone asks the wrong question. and it's probably a good thing that they don't ask the right one, because if they did, i am not sure how i'd take it. but i know the question, and the answer, just not my reaction to actually admitting the answer. Because yes, my job is great, and it's a foot in the door, and a step in the right direction, and yada yada yada about how absolutely fantastic it is for me to be working where i am working. but...

"Are you happy?"

"No."