|
Monday, Sept. 01, 2003 / 8:16 p.m. ~It's Been So Much Fun~ Not good, just not good at all. Three days and I haven't even left my apartment. It's like I'm suddenly agoraphobic, but that's not it at all, I'm simply immobilized. At least today I managed to stay off this computer, until now. But I found a replacement, a marathon showing of "Single in the City 2" on WE (Women's Entertainment). I think watching these sleazy, single, desperate women go on dates in Manhattan made me feel better about who I am. Plus, I love living vicariously through others. I think I'd like to live vicariously, period. Just watch. No, no, no, I like to DO, I do, I do like to do, in fact I've done, and that's just it, I don't see where I'm going from here, I've done it. Now I want to watch. Maybe there's nothing wrong with that, if I could just do something with it. With all the watching. I need to write a book, I want to write a book, I'm lacking focus though. And that's a big problem too. I like to compare Gladys' sleeping habits with my own passions. She'll be all about the cedar chest in front of the window in the bedroom, living there, getting up there and pulling the curtains aside with her paw, then lying there for hours, getting up to pee, to drink, to eat, then right back. And then just when I get used to setting her there after a squeeze, she's suddenly married to the base of the scratchpost, leaning against the sliding glass door in the living room. She stays there all day. I'm like that with whatever I'm into, I'm all over it, it's all I can think about, I sleep it, I drink it up, I live it, then a few days later I want to get away. I've actually been that way in relationships with men too, which is not so good, for them anyway. Then there's all the food I bought Friday. Yay, and all that, food, good, whee, but when it's fresh it has to be eaten, like right away. It's been three days, one of my peaches was already getting all wrinkly in the skin, and it wasn't even ripe on the inside. As an observer of advertising, I have to say I need one of those fancy Kenmore refrigerators that keeps your food fresh while you're on vacation in Europe for three weeks. Yes, the flowers have died, there are 17 messages on the answering machine, but hey, how 'bout some grapes? They're still fresh, thank you Kenmore! So, I'm sitting, wandering from room to room, sitting, thinking I could go to a movie, I could do some laundry, I need to pay rent, no, I can see me, I get in my car, I drive to the apartment office, I stick the envelope in the drop box, but are there still people at that office?, aren't they at the sister complex down the street now?, where do I pay my rent now?, and then I drive to town to see the surf movie, then I drop off my recycling, but I'm hungry and the food is here, so I have to come back, and it's so far, so I'd better just stay here. Okay, if I'm going to stay, watch women in Manhattan go on bad date after bad date, shouldn't I eat some strawberries and underripe peaches and wash some clothes? And now, shouldn't I just check my email, see how high I'm rated on hotornot.com? But I feel so hot, so sweaty, shouldn't I take a shower? But then I need to take out the trash, and won't I sweat when I do that? Do I put the rent check in the drop box? I have to go back to work tomorrow, why do I have to go back? Why haven't I found another job? And it's this downward spiral into self loathing that really should've just been a nice three day weekend. One of the women on the "Single in the City" documentary, or reality series, or whatever it was, the British model, says she may be ignorant and stupid, but she'd rather be that, and happy, than clever and miserable. Yeah, that sums it up. I'd rather be ignorant and stupid and happy too. And a model with so much money I can choose to spend Christmas and New Year's in Thailand, because my friends are there. But I have eaten well. I ate a huge salad earlier, and it was okay, I wasn't into eating, wasn't enamored of the idea, but it was there, and I guess I had hunger, hard to say. And last night's chicken sausage with sun dried tomatoes and basil, with squashes and shiitakes was good too. Of course. It would be nice if I'd take one of my 400 cookbooks and choose something real to cook, list the ingredients needed on a piece of paper, shop, and cook it instead though. I'm really unhappy. That's all there is to it. I'm not enjoying my life right now, and Zoloft is not the answer. I saw a commercial for it earlier today, with that little eliptical shaped whatever, some sad representation of a miserable human being, unable to socialize because it feels isolated and like it's being judged, well yeah, look at it! Of course. But if it takes Zoloft, it can be happy, as chemical A will connect with chemical B, or something, but it will also be nauseous and have diarrhea and be unable to get it up, or get wet, or whatever, too. Gee, which would I rather? Enjoying social situations while having to run to the bathroom with diarrhea, or sitting at home watching TV, reading, playing on the Interweb, happily interacting artificially? Tough one, that. "For Love Or Money 2" had damned well be the season finale this time, it's on in a bit, and I'm feeling inspired to leave my apartment now that the sun has set. I know I have five full days to pay my rent, but I like to do these things on time, and I'm so paranoid about the leasing office not being the leasing office anymore, I want to at least walk to the door and read the signs there. Such a great weekend, a Holiday, whoo hoo. Cost of the War in Iraq
(JavaScript Error)
Recent Entries: It Was 40 Years Ago Today - 9:44 a.m. , Friday, Oct. 12, 2012 Dead Black Cat - 9:07 a.m. , Wednesday, Jan. 25, 2012 As Seen From Outer Space - 1:07 a.m. , Saturday, Dec. 05, 2009 I Survived to Tell the Tale - 7:29 a.m. , Friday, Sept. 18, 2009 Reading My Life - 12:55 p.m. , Saturday, Sept. 12, 2009 
  |