Angry? Frustrated? Discontent?
I dont know what this is. Im something though.
Ive been off on holidays now for 6 days. I was SO looking forward to my 10 days off of work, I could finally get a bunch of stuff done around here that I just didnt seem to find the time do to when I was trying to cram it into the nine to fiver lifestyle
I woke up yesterday morning at 10:00 am. My eyes sprung open in a doubletake when I registered what the alarm clock was actually displaying, and I was instantly filled with an anxiety based on time.
Fuck, is it Thursday? I was thinking, and that thought began to freak me out.
No, no, its only Wednesday. Phew!
Ysee I was freaking out thinking it was Thursday because I really havent done much of what I told myself I was going to do with this time off. The idea that it was Thursday already really freaked me out.
Well, its Thursday now, isnt it?
I woke up this morning at 5:30am which is actually a full hour of sleeping in if it was a regular work day. I came out into the living room, sat at the computer, checked my email, 6 new messages, YAY! Oh. All spam. Delete them all, heat up yesterdays coffee in the microwave which was totally disgusting, I looked around for my cigarettes, and then remembered that I had quit, with that realization I suddenly lost any reason to actually be awake yet and at 6:15 I went back to bed.
Morgan had rapidly taken advantage of the fact that he had the whole bed to himself, so he had layed out straight across the top of the bed, his back pressed up against all the pillows. Man hes belligerent to move sometimes when hes sleeping.
After a few shoves and lifts and progressively louder commands, Morgan, MOVE!, he finally bolts up, moves to one side and drops his body down in a huff like a pissed off 4 year old brat. I crawl in under the covers beside him and assume my coffin pose I seem to like to fall asleep in. Both hands crossed over my heart, flat on my back, legs straight.
No dozing though. One cup of flat microwaved 24 hour old coffee was now leaving its greasy slug trail of caffeine through my veins and I laid there watching the shadowplay on my ceiling for a while, wondering why I just dont get up and start doing all that stuff? Eventually I started to doze though, right about the same time Morgan started chasing squirrels in his own dreams and began to beat me mercilessly with his galloping club-like paws. Id snap out of my doze, give him a shove and then start the race again. SHIZENHUND! We were obviously on the same sleep pattern because for the next 2 hours, everytime I started to fall asleep again, hed start kicking me. After a while I began to see it as the opening scene from some movie:
Close up on the sleeping face of a man. Serene, not in the REM stage, eyelids motionless, the sound of his breathing is loud, long deep breaths. Then his head starts to rhythmically wobble back and forth on the pillow. The whole bed is shaking violently. Earthquake?
The audience doesnt know yet, and the camera pans slowly back, taking in more of the quaking bed, what the fuck is going on?
Finally the camera pans back full view, the whole bed is in the frame now, and theres the great dane beside him, all four legs violently hammering in galloping staccato against the left side of this sleeping mans body. That would be the start of his day.
Well at 9:30, I gave up and got up. Put some fresh coffee on, deleted some more spam, and thought again about this not smoking thing. I dont seem to have it in me. I can tell myself over and over again that I need to quit, but I just dont seem to have the care. I know I need to, but I dont seem to think I want to. Even with my attempt to put some power on the idea with the death of my mom, I dont feel any differently about it. Still dont really care.
I dont even wanna get out of bed in the morning. As soon as I wake up and remember that I am not smoking, I just want to go back to sleep. Im not hyped or excited about this at all.
I wanted to clean up last week before Trish came over. I sort of did, but what that actually meant was to take EVERYTHING that was stacked up in all corners of the living room, and transport it into the bedroom. deal with that later.
Its been stacked up in there now for almost a week, and I havent touched it. Its really really brutal in there too, Im not talking about some little oh, I just need to spend a few hours here and organize this, Im talking chaos. Years and years worth of books and photos and magazines and CDs and clothing I never wear and chairs and well, its just really really bad. If I could get my laptop to boot, Id take a webcam shot of it. Maybe as a before pic of the before and after.
Anyways, I put on some fresh coffee, leashed up the dog, threw on my coat and walked out into the hallway. Turned around to pull the door closed to lock it, and stopped to peel the eviction notice off the outside of my apartment door. Hmmm. Seems I need to come up with $1800.00 dollars in the next 5 days. Ok. Ill see what I can do.
I walked back into the apartment here, threw the notice on my kitchen counter and walked Morgan up to the smoke shop.
Yup, totally buckled. And when I realize that this buckling is over and above the power I tried to throw into it with Moms death, I realize that I gotta get a grip here. I think Ive kinda lost it in the last month, and I cant even seem to force myself to find a reason to care about that.
I dont know what this is. Im something though.
Ive been off on holidays now for 6 days. I was SO looking forward to my 10 days off of work, I could finally get a bunch of stuff done around here that I just didnt seem to find the time do to when I was trying to cram it into the nine to fiver lifestyle
I woke up yesterday morning at 10:00 am. My eyes sprung open in a doubletake when I registered what the alarm clock was actually displaying, and I was instantly filled with an anxiety based on time.
Fuck, is it Thursday? I was thinking, and that thought began to freak me out.
No, no, its only Wednesday. Phew!
Ysee I was freaking out thinking it was Thursday because I really havent done much of what I told myself I was going to do with this time off. The idea that it was Thursday already really freaked me out.
Well, its Thursday now, isnt it?
I woke up this morning at 5:30am which is actually a full hour of sleeping in if it was a regular work day. I came out into the living room, sat at the computer, checked my email, 6 new messages, YAY! Oh. All spam. Delete them all, heat up yesterdays coffee in the microwave which was totally disgusting, I looked around for my cigarettes, and then remembered that I had quit, with that realization I suddenly lost any reason to actually be awake yet and at 6:15 I went back to bed.
Morgan had rapidly taken advantage of the fact that he had the whole bed to himself, so he had layed out straight across the top of the bed, his back pressed up against all the pillows. Man hes belligerent to move sometimes when hes sleeping.
After a few shoves and lifts and progressively louder commands, Morgan, MOVE!, he finally bolts up, moves to one side and drops his body down in a huff like a pissed off 4 year old brat. I crawl in under the covers beside him and assume my coffin pose I seem to like to fall asleep in. Both hands crossed over my heart, flat on my back, legs straight.
No dozing though. One cup of flat microwaved 24 hour old coffee was now leaving its greasy slug trail of caffeine through my veins and I laid there watching the shadowplay on my ceiling for a while, wondering why I just dont get up and start doing all that stuff? Eventually I started to doze though, right about the same time Morgan started chasing squirrels in his own dreams and began to beat me mercilessly with his galloping club-like paws. Id snap out of my doze, give him a shove and then start the race again. SHIZENHUND! We were obviously on the same sleep pattern because for the next 2 hours, everytime I started to fall asleep again, hed start kicking me. After a while I began to see it as the opening scene from some movie:
Close up on the sleeping face of a man. Serene, not in the REM stage, eyelids motionless, the sound of his breathing is loud, long deep breaths. Then his head starts to rhythmically wobble back and forth on the pillow. The whole bed is shaking violently. Earthquake?
The audience doesnt know yet, and the camera pans slowly back, taking in more of the quaking bed, what the fuck is going on?
Finally the camera pans back full view, the whole bed is in the frame now, and theres the great dane beside him, all four legs violently hammering in galloping staccato against the left side of this sleeping mans body. That would be the start of his day.
Well at 9:30, I gave up and got up. Put some fresh coffee on, deleted some more spam, and thought again about this not smoking thing. I dont seem to have it in me. I can tell myself over and over again that I need to quit, but I just dont seem to have the care. I know I need to, but I dont seem to think I want to. Even with my attempt to put some power on the idea with the death of my mom, I dont feel any differently about it. Still dont really care.
I dont even wanna get out of bed in the morning. As soon as I wake up and remember that I am not smoking, I just want to go back to sleep. Im not hyped or excited about this at all.
I wanted to clean up last week before Trish came over. I sort of did, but what that actually meant was to take EVERYTHING that was stacked up in all corners of the living room, and transport it into the bedroom. deal with that later.
Its been stacked up in there now for almost a week, and I havent touched it. Its really really brutal in there too, Im not talking about some little oh, I just need to spend a few hours here and organize this, Im talking chaos. Years and years worth of books and photos and magazines and CDs and clothing I never wear and chairs and well, its just really really bad. If I could get my laptop to boot, Id take a webcam shot of it. Maybe as a before pic of the before and after.
Anyways, I put on some fresh coffee, leashed up the dog, threw on my coat and walked out into the hallway. Turned around to pull the door closed to lock it, and stopped to peel the eviction notice off the outside of my apartment door. Hmmm. Seems I need to come up with $1800.00 dollars in the next 5 days. Ok. Ill see what I can do.
I walked back into the apartment here, threw the notice on my kitchen counter and walked Morgan up to the smoke shop.
Yup, totally buckled. And when I realize that this buckling is over and above the power I tried to throw into it with Moms death, I realize that I gotta get a grip here. I think Ive kinda lost it in the last month, and I cant even seem to force myself to find a reason to care about that.
godlessnerd:
whats going on in June? ass kicking? 
fenris23:
What is it about this time of year that makes things that would normally be enh its not that bad turn in to oh my god this is my life?