Anna S. (eliade) wrote,
Anna S.

my pendulum swings to yak

So I notice that I'm quiet, and quiet, and quiet, and then not so much. Below is randomness.

There aren't enough words in the thesaurus for how tired I was yesterday. Beat, burnt, done in, drained, and flagging. Spent, stale, wasted, weary, and worn. By the time I went to bed last night I'd been up more or less two days straight. And when I woke up this morning, after twelve hours, I kept walking in circles and then stopping in place and trying to remember what I was going to do next. Ambien hangover. But I'm rewarded with semi-sanity today.

My body has been tingling for about a week now. I think the lack of exercise is causing me to pretzel up again, so that my nerves are going haywire. Yay. Gym is my goal today.

Poe's Haunted brings me back to the song itself, now forever imprinted with Seah and Margie's memorable Odyssey 5 vid. (And then the earth blew up. -- VVC, 2003. I wasn't even at the con.) I need to revisit that show. Maybe starting tonight. Which I can do courtesy of z_rayne, who is good to me even when I'm undeserving.

bleach pen
I bought a second one. Okay, it definitely works, even if you have to use it a few times. redthroatedloon was right. Success may also have something to do with the fact that I sat there, sleepless and crackers, with my nose an inch from the grout, and anal-retentively painted every stripe.

love debts
I owe a lot of love, but especially to sherrold, anaxila, cesperanza, kormantic, and ladycat777.

water torture
Tiny vexations ever since this morning. Accidentally bleached sweater. Phone cord reached maximum tangledness. Repainted one nail only to chip another. And every time today that I mean to hit "Open Doc" in Word I hit "New Doc" instead. *shakes tiny fist of rage and madness* But small reasons for sobbing are better than big ones.

not a grown-up
Monday, kormantic left me a sweet comment that implied I was a grown-up. Ha ha! She is funny. In fact, I buy pink gloves for winter instead of wearing last year's, eat french fries when I should eat broccoli, go through my mail late and find out that my traffic court hearing came and went a week ago, max out my credit card for the ninety-seventh time, and avoid paying bills I actually have the money for. I was really depressed when I opened the traffic court notification. I thought I'd been paying attention to my mail, but it was three weeks old. Where does the time go. It was Monday when I found the notice, and I thought: yes, maybe I accomplished six months of sobriety today but WHY CAN'T I READ MY MAIL? It makes me feel like a failure. I lose at life, etc etc. But it doesn't stack up--I mean, it's nothing compared to simply failing to notice that I'm living, you know? Is life really about bleach pens and pink gloves? I could die tomorrow and I haven't been paying attention to *existence*. Not sure how to address that. Road trip, maybe.
Tags: hard stuff, life 2005, wittering 2005

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