A word lives two days in a row! For me, this is as if it lives two lives in quick succession. I have not forgotten you, williwaw, despite my brain floating in a a cocktail engineered to keep things hazy and short-term.
Today, only more lyrically embossed: we did not drive to IKEA, this may have been because neither of us was mobile much before noon. Myself, I had made the intelligent plan of staying up to 3a.m, convinced I was not tired. Or convinced that it didn’t matter. Or convinced that I could just take a nap at some point today regardless of the fact that I never take a nap. I am always too keyed-up from caffeine to sleep, or maybe just the power of my massive brain as it works to plot out all the exhaustive ways it can both destroy and be utterly shamed by my waking behavior. I am frankly astonished that a bath and some aspirin did bring me back to life. At least enough that I didn’t want to commit hara-kari before receiving my delicious lunch at Hacienda Colorado. It was delicious, and from there, more happy minutiae. Shopping at Target for a chair that isn’t a black behemoth office chair – not finding one but being offered a free black behemoth to use by my parents while I shop around for something that makes a bit more design sense with the room. It is important to give a shit about these issues, because otherwise, you find yourself in the terrible and familiar position of struggling to give a shit about anything. Then, we walked two dogs further than I would have initially suggested we walk.
And now, back home where I am sitting at this desk…a dream of six months ago, when the first thoughts of bigger change was first dancing through my head. I am here rather than laying in my bed with the laptop atop my lap, slowly cooking my internal organs until they are gray and non-functioning. It feels like a healthier choice just to be sitting here, rather than half-supine. It is not perfect. The desk probably could use a sanding in a few spots. The chair I was given by my parents, an extra they were looking to get rid of, gets me close enough for comfort. However, crossing my legs, as I am wont to do, seems not likely. Maybe it does just need to be broken in as my sister suggests. We’ll find another one, but for now, I am not sunk into myself.
I was…and am…not sure how to convert Sunday energy into something better for Monday. Some sort of radical ferocity, an eight-hour magic bullet I can load tonight. But I have a few ideas after reading this Wil Wheaton article: http://wilwheaton.net/2015/10/seven-things-i-did-to-reboot-my-life/…and I wonder what this could look like for me. How much of that is exactly what I am looking for, how much of it is what I need. Reading, sleeping, giving a few things up.
You might see some struggle here soon.