The Silent Type

I didn't feel like saying anything today, so I didn't. Still haven't. In fact, by the time I finish writing this it'll be 24 hours since I last uttered a spoken word.
I still went to work, had lunch and went to the market on the way home; I just did it all without talking. This was a lot easier to do than I thought it would be. It's almost easier than speaking.

A nod and a polite smile to the bus driver.
Wave at the receptionist.
Answer some email. Write some new letters.

I don't even have a phone at work. Only email. (It's pretty strange, but I like it, especially after working at Loan Hell)

The building I work in has about a zillion coffee/break rooms , so it was pretty easy to find one that was vacant. If I gained anything from my five-year career as an office temp, it was an uncanny knack for exploiting whatever resources the workplace has as far as fresh coffee, free food and quiet bathrooms go. My new favorite break spot is the coffee room on the Xth floor, which isn't even occupied by the firm I work for, but has a soda fountain.
I have a freight elevator key which lets me into every floor here(I don't think it's supposed to), and floor X definitely has the poshest digs- a plasma TV on the wall and everything! Very odd, but very cool.
The few people I've met there don't seem to know (or care) that I don't actually work there. I told one guy that I was in "Records", which was not only good enough to get me into their break room , but also into the football pool.
Every firm in this building has a Records department and no one ( outside Records) knows who works in any of them by sight. I should just put my email address on my ID. My work email address is someone else's name anyway. One day Automation will update it , but our IT guy never does anything except work on a project that looks a lot like Unreal Tournament 2004 to me. I've been using a brand new printer as a table for week now, but he's always busy. I don't care. I hate printing shit anyway. It kills trees.

I read while I ate and no one bothered me.

Some more emails. Emptied a physical mailbox. Put some crap in the courier basket.

Nod to the bus driver. Go through the self-serve checkout at market and walk home.
Whistle for the outdoor cat. He doesn't care if I talk to him or not, as long as he gets fed and petted.
No messages on the answering machine. That's a fucking surprise. Ha. Ha.
This no-talking stuff is getting easier all the time. I could probably go days or even weeks without saying anything.
Since my near-death forced me to quit booze forever, I don't go out anymore.
The only people I see by choice are at the radio station, and they are already used to me working with headphones on and communicating by pantomime because there's a live mic in the room. If there's a band in the studio, all I have to do is make a strumming motion and point at my ear (let me hear the guitar) or make a hammering gesture ( ok, now let's hear the drums) etc. Easy.

Despite all this,I'm fairly certain that I'll start talking again soon. I've been sort of strange since I got out of the hospital, but I think it's in a good way. I'm starting to actually enjoy my sobriety. A lot. My body feels different. It doesn't hurt all the time, for one thing. It also smells better.
I like my guitar and my words. I feel like being on stage again. (I'm much more at ease on stage than in 'real life')
Food tastes good.

Most importantly (I hope) , there's this girl that I keep thinking about. I met her at the station this spring and liked her right away. She's one of the kindest people I've met and she's got a powerful aura of wisdom that I am drawn to- she's very different than the aggressively manic-depressive alcoholic drug-addicts that I tend to attract. Drunks always wind up with drunks, I guess.
She deserves better than dating a drunken office grifter, so I never asked her out, but the last time I saw her she suggested that we get together. A beautiful woman asked me out? Perhaps this explains my speechlessness.
Today, plans were confirmed (via email, natch') ! I hope that this means that I am no longer a drunken office grifter. I'm trying to keep any other expectations minimal,
but I have a good feeling about her. She's the kind of girl who would never need to call you collect from the County drunk tank ("pick me up at 6am and bring $500 with you,please, waaah waahh boo hoo..."), which is a huuuge plus in my book.

I don't want to jinx myself with wishfullness, but I just had to say something to somebody, ya know?