Overthink Things

Okay, so this is going to be a mini journal because I don’t feel like sitting on this any longer. This bugs me.

I was in a pretty good mood all day, even at work. That’s rather unusual. I nearly punched Bernie, and I totally forget why, and I would have too if he didn’t move. But it was a good day at work.

So when I got home, then, I just felt like killing someone. I’m often in that mood, though. I am the Classic Pizza serial killer. Cannibal. Don’t forget. I eat people, too.

While I don’t know why I was in this mood, I kept coming to one conclusion. So, I have major crushage over Nate, one of our drivers. It’s funny, cuz every time he we work together, I can hear his car coming from a mile away (sometimes, this isn’t even an exaggeration) because it’s an old ass Buick that hasn’t had a lot of healthy attention.

He’s usually a really nice guy. He puts up with Sterphy, the workmate no one likes, and I know he annoys Nate as much as he annoys anyone else. We’ve had that conversation before, and Nate berated me for being so mean to him, because then Sterphy goes to Nate. Because Nate, unlike me, can’t tell him to fuck off. He listens to Sterphy’s ridiculous stories and laughs along to them like any other person. Even though Nate’s the quiet one that stands in the corner.

Today, however, Nate was being an ass to me. It turned out that one of our heat lamps was out, and I still put pizzas under there because there was absolutely nowhere else to put them. Ben discovered this and called it out to our boss, but before Ralph’s attention was really brought over, Ben asked why the light was out and who was the cause. Nate pointed to me, motioning wildly at one point, but he characteristically didn’t audibly call me out. We had a long, silent conversation, but the end of it consisted of me mouthing “you’re an ass” over to him and turning around to take care of more pizzas coming out of the oven.

Then, I begged Wes to let me clock out, so I left, got gas, and then realized I needed to request time off to take care of my brothers next Saturday. Most people were gone by the time I got back, but Wes was yelling at me for coming back, and Nate just decided to follow Wes’s example and give me a hard time as well. Nate just doesn’t do that.

Now, I’m not sure whether he’s finally so fed up with me that he’d resort to this or if he really does consider me his friend and therefore he doesn’t have to be nice to me all the time anymore. And this only matters because I can’t go one day without thinking of him at all. Sure, we work together four days a week, even if he’s usually right out the door Saturday and Sunday when I walk in, but it’s getting nuts.

I just … this guy. I hate the ambiguity, and there’s no way I can talk about my feelings towards him … again. Because that got me so far in October. I don’t know what to do anymore. Getting over him - while a much better option than anything else I have at hand - is nigh impossible.