beauty and the beholder

4:36 pm on a Monday

I stayed home from work today because I’m sort of sick and have things to do, like a million loads of laundry and rearranging my room, but instead I’m stoned, drawing out the anticipation of startingTimequake. My boss told me not to come in, to get some rest and some homeopathic remedies and that we’d meet on Tuesday morning, so I slept until two pm and took some vitamin C, had a glass of tea and a bowl of oatmeal, both sweetened by local honey. I didn’t mean to sleep in that late, maybe 11 at the latest, but I forgot to turn off my alarm and was feeling defiant at being woken up at 10 so I stayed in bed with my dog for hours, dozing while she stared out the open window. Now she’s lying on the rug in front of me, dreaming loudly about a farm she never lived on.

My roommate tells me that because I lived on a farm I shouldn’t be afraid of wasps, but the entire ten years that I lived on a farm I never learned any trick to avoid being stung than to leave the wasps alone. You can’t fight a wasp, not really. For every wasp you kill, there are 100 wasps furious at you for killing him. Your only hope is to fly, and to hope that they don’t fly after you.

I quit smoking cigarettes a few days ago, and I’m still not really sure why. Intellectually I know that I have lots of reasons, but emotionally, I’m in what I thought was as committed a relationship with cigarettes as I could ever get with anything. Now I’ve quit. And I want to stay quitting. But goddammit, cigarettes are just so glamorous. Pot is not glamorous. Getting stoned is fun and lazy and appropriate at times and inappropriate at others, but it is not glamorous. It is too normal, too safe, too chill to be glamorous. And it doesn’t feel the same way in your throat. It tastes like the earth, not like glamor.

Interesting how something that won’t harm you tastes like the earth, and something that will kill you tastes like high fashion. Death is the most glamorous thing you could possibly do.

i need to learn to keep in mind that we aren’t really friends anymore and you don’t owe me anything and neither of us owes anyone especially each other anything, and if i spend a few weekends at home it’s not the end of the world.

i am fine, i am fine, i am fine.

i’m probably about to cry because i miss you so much.

huge anxiety attack, job interview in an hour.

make this stop make this stop make this stop.

definitely just vomited up nothing for no reason. i need to skip today.

i will do at least one productive and/or creative thing every day for the rest of my life.

new life resolution.

(this doesn’t include walking my dog, taking a shower, getting groceries, or anything else that I should be doing. depending on my work schedule, it may include working. we’ll just have to see.)

my dog has kennel caugh and she was up all night caughing and it kept me up and now she won’t come inside so my other dogs are probably going to get it too and i can’t afford to pay my phone bill much less take her to the vet fuck fuck fuck.