the numbing nothingness
i think it's 11:30 am (what do i mean, I THINK , i completely know b/c it's on my screen, duh ), which means i have been sitting at this god-forsaken, demon-infested cubicle for 3.5 hrs now, and I still haven't really WOKEN up today. why do i torture myself in this coffee-less day?
i am in no state of emotional crisis.
i have had plenty of alone time the last two weeks.
i have had great conversations with friends this week.
i painted, drank, and watched It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia last night.
i have made a menu, shopped for it, and executed our meals this week (in an effort to tighten back up on spending and calories).
i have a great weekend planned.*
so what's the dealio, little soulio?
nothing. absolutely nothing. this nothingness is what's wrong.
there are reasons to be a bit cranky (too much late night reading, my body is protesting to the 8-10 hrs a day i sit at a computer, this job is BOOORRRINNG as hell and most everyone is on vacation today so it's really quiet, money stresses me out, relationships unnerve me) but at the deepest part of my core, i know that today -
nothing is really wrong.
that's what's wrong.
ways i have entertained myself today thus far in my 8-5 grind:
~rekindled my interest in the Myers-Briggs research I am collecting - wherein i send out the test to all friends and family, compile their results into one color-coded smart little spreadsheet and analyze away!
~posted a Visually Ink Lined blog
~emailed lots of lovely people for various reasons in my detail-driven life
~planned what i was wearing for each day of the weekend
~planned a menu and shopping list for next week's attempt to cut cost and calories
~walked to the mailroom and got mail
~bitched about it being friday with the UPS guy who always flirts with me
s'about it.
a road trip to Portland with ben and jess - it's supposed to be 98 freaking degreeeeeesss- i am gonna melt
a party to see our andrew and his new bride-ling
a sunday morning brunch in Portland
a box of peaches at mom's house
BLAH. BYE.
Want more? Just posted a bookling blog yesterday.
~crm
3 comments:
Not one nobody has commented on this post yet.
Whaaaattttt?
So I think I shall relish being first (it happens so often that your other blog stalkers get here first).
A proper start:
Dearest Mme,
I noticed your absence in my life last weekend and think you might be absent once again THIS weekend which makes me want to wear something ugly and not comb my hair when I get out of bed in the morning.
I know you feel cranky. How cranky I just don't know. But if you were here in my little abode right this now, I would pour you a drink and let you use my vintage typewriter AND I would let Penelope sit on your lap and nurse you to contentment and happiness with her big, brown, liquid eyes.
I think of you often.
I appreciate your effort to be genuine. Your writing reeks of it -- being true to yourself that is. Thank you always for that.
With all my heart,
Plume
Post Script: I KNOW that when I meet you someday, face to face, you're going to be exactly who I think you are. That's a very great solace for me. Very great.
What a peircingly kind thing to say - miss bird lady.
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