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"every grace every ace every near miss"
May. 30th, 2014 11:15 amDay Three.
Abundance asked me to imagine a scenario in which I felt cool enough to be in a tattoo parlor. I responded by first saying "If I'd recently killed someone with a texas switchblade" followed by "if I was straight-edge by choice" and then started to cry. Good times. I forced myself to go to the library to pick up some books I'd ordered about printer's ornaments, looking for oak leaves on that edge between tribal and art nouveau.
I'm starting to wonder if I'm depressed, or worn down on some soul-deep level, because reading right now is hard, and I can't seem to find any joy in it, outside really enjoying having readingdates with Abundance. But none of the books on my tablet appeal, and I went to the library and simply could not summon the curiosity to get anything out. I think this has been going on since vacation, I'm not sure what I've read since I got back other than Sparrow Hill Road and a re-read of Zodiac.
I'm agitated all the time. I'm severely rattled by something that happened with a neighbor, I'm severely rattled by a convention-related email, I'm rattled by even trying to think about getting a tattoo on the stuntboobs (hey, I had no idea that they would be so hard to call mine) even if I think I'm ready, I still don't actually want to think about them.
But I've emailed people about swimming lessons and scuba certification and I continue to be both charmed and comforted by hanging out on the couch with Abundance as he takes work calls. But, but, but.
Abundance asked me to imagine a scenario in which I felt cool enough to be in a tattoo parlor. I responded by first saying "If I'd recently killed someone with a texas switchblade" followed by "if I was straight-edge by choice" and then started to cry. Good times. I forced myself to go to the library to pick up some books I'd ordered about printer's ornaments, looking for oak leaves on that edge between tribal and art nouveau.
I'm starting to wonder if I'm depressed, or worn down on some soul-deep level, because reading right now is hard, and I can't seem to find any joy in it, outside really enjoying having readingdates with Abundance. But none of the books on my tablet appeal, and I went to the library and simply could not summon the curiosity to get anything out. I think this has been going on since vacation, I'm not sure what I've read since I got back other than Sparrow Hill Road and a re-read of Zodiac.
I'm agitated all the time. I'm severely rattled by something that happened with a neighbor, I'm severely rattled by a convention-related email, I'm rattled by even trying to think about getting a tattoo on the stuntboobs (hey, I had no idea that they would be so hard to call mine) even if I think I'm ready, I still don't actually want to think about them.
But I've emailed people about swimming lessons and scuba certification and I continue to be both charmed and comforted by hanging out on the couch with Abundance as he takes work calls. But, but, but.
