Anti-Social Travel Cooler

I've occupied my new apartment for forty-eight hours now. I've had two semi-restless nights on a graciously loaned air-mattress, eaten out a lot due to a lack of plates / pans, and spent hundreds of dollars buying inexpensive household items to get the lady and I by till we can get all of our nice stuff out west.

While staying at my friends for the last three months I often holed up in my room in an attempt to give them space while enjoying some myself. This solitary time does nothing for my social skills. I find myself verbally stumbling when I'm fortunate enough to enjoy the company of others. I'm so starved for conversation that nightly calls with the lady find me talking to her more than with her. I babble uncontrollably finding pause with my verbal assaults only after hanging up the phone. It's no different at work.

The team at work is a close knit bunch that have enjoyed work related, bond inducing world traveling. Beyond attachment these four guys are extraordinarily smart. Considering these two attributes it's not hard to believe that I find my head spinning as they weave a tale or drudge up trivial knowledge at breakneck speed. I've joined in on occasion but my overall plan is to be quiet. I do the tasks presented to me, am pleasant when addressed, and simply listen to the verbal whirlwind occasionally chuckling when I get the joke.

I feel like a high school jock in the AV club. That's not completely accurate. Imagine a four-hundred strong AV staff that stop feeding four-hundred projectors to stare at me as I enter the room. That's not completely accurate. Exaggerated or not, the dramatic drop in friends and the seemingly uphill battle to obtain new ones that live in the same state is disheartening.

A friend gave me permission to have a break down. She offered her shoulder if I should succumb to the pressure. It’s not that I haven’t considered a mild breakdown, but the bliss I was experiencing was due to self imposed ignorance. Offered permission, I now want to break down.

At night I sit on my travel cooler and watch DVDs on my computer which rests on one of the only items of furniture I own: My fifteen-dollar Ikea table. The bedroom furniture is sad and the front room furnishings are non-existent. When the lady gets out here in two weeks we'll pick out some items to occupy the front room. But when she gets out here I won't even care if there is furniture at all.