like a little drop of ink in a glass of water
reviewing the archives, I notice that this has been the third time I have announced a resurrection.
maybe it'll stick. here's hoping.
January 28, 2009
thinking out loud, you said, I'm overwhelmed
I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, for some cataclysm to rear its ugly head and send me back into prior paralyzed depths of my ridiculous anxieties, to return to the space I took so long to get away from.
I watch myself more astutely, now. Sometimes it's to keep a lie alive; nouns are edited and verbs omitted, timestamps skewed and intoxication temporarily ignored. More often, though, it's to spot the signs in case of disaster; am I sleeping enough? what's my diet like? why am I worried about what I'm worried about? Sometimes I feel like a miner who too focused on the canary, runs the risk of falling down the mineshaft.
I brush against them, sometimes, as I root for missing socks, the lone rigid object in a drawer full of fabric tubes; the childproof lid and orange bottle reminding me of a simpler time when all I had to do was take with meal and do not operate heavy machinery. I don't have a record of those days; they passed in a vague haze of office work and utter apathy punctuated with occasional bus treks from Langley to somewhere that didn't suck and periodic episodes of catastrophic doubt. I don't miss them.
I wonder, sometimes, if the easiest thing would be to start up again, to let the days wash over and by me in some obscene parody of a time-lapse montage as I sublimate my own desires and let my life be lived for me again, because today was a bad day and school is hard and work blows and I can't keep this up and and and everything is no good.
Then I remember the bottle, and I remember how I stopped feeling like things were so bad, and then I stopped feeling like myself, and then I stopped feeling altogether.
The bottle stays in the sock drawer. I will only throw it out when it is an empty gesture, not because I might need it and can't be trusted not to cave, but when I don't need it and have no use whatsoever for it.
That day is getting closer.
well whatever, you do this
I find myself compelled to write at inopportune times; it doesn't help that I will get myself all jacked up on caffeine and then do things I need to focus on because of my atypical reaction to large doses of stimulants, then find myself distracted in new and exciting ways.
So far, this has led to the addition of a business card blog (!) to my RSS feed, at least three bookmarks about CSS grid layouts that would necessitate a full teardown and overhaul of any web project I was on before it could go live, and about two pounds lost to fidgeting.
There are a lot of things that I have gotten good at whose necessity and proficiency I am mostly alarmed by, and along with lying (I am the best liar you know.), I'm now used to building distractions into my workflow; it doesn't help that I have three to five things on the go at once, and there are notifications popping up at inopportune moments but it makes me wonder if/when I hit a wall on this front, and suddenly I stop being able to pay attention to anything at all.
It's a worrying notion, and I realize now that I carry a couple of low-level worries with me at all times which carry the potential to grow alone or in concert and return me to the space I occupied before-- all passed deadlines and learned helplessness.
and now I'm rambling. This post is shelved.
January 21, 2009
facial horrors
yesterday at the orthodontist, they filed down my front teeth, which makes them smooth and leaves me a little closer to someone with normal teeth. My mouth feels weird again.
January 15, 2009
cold boot
went to Saskatoon with the Ubyssey, had a blast, learned a lot and slept a little, came home starry-eyed and full of (urban) fervor. that's another post entirely.
Returned home, and the next day I called the ol' bookstore to see when I was in next to find out that hours were cut by 1/3rd and that I had no hours on the schedule, that I might be able to go on EI, and that boss was v. sorry but that there was nothing she could do.
Moped around for a couple hours, simultaneously hanging out with sister and niece (who was happy to see me, apparently) and being all frown-like when my sister asked me how much I had in checking, in savings, and on my Visa. She's been the financially sound one for as long as I can remember (working in banks will do that, I suppose) so I answered and she said I'd be fine, which got me thinking: well, now what?
I have a pretty solid idea of where I don't want to work, and a decent one of where I do, so while a job hunt happens, I have a lot of freeish time, suddenly. There's a possibility of EI while I'm off, and so maybe it's time for a sabbatical-- I could get my online presence under control, get on top of my distance ed, and do more shooting as a whole; freelance, paper, and just for kicks.
So what's standing in the way? I'm not really sure. I guess it's time to find out.
January 04, 2009
kickstart
I do this yearly, hiatus or deadblog or no, and maybe this will mark the return from two years of not writing.
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