May 03, 2002 :: 8:35 p.m.
with an incessant sadness, like a sad record skipping
Okay. Work was work. It was just Joe and I closing tonight, since Stewart was on his way to Philly for some gay pride-related event. Possibly his whipping boy thing - he wears leather and whips people at pride fest and such. It's amusing because you'd never suspect it from looking at him. He reminds me of a little kid, not a bondage hero. But anyway. We bagged up all the extra bagels and pastries and took them to St. Michael's Church on State Street; they're hosting a spaghetti dinner tonight, and Joe's helping out, so he decided that it would be nice to contribute a shitload of bagels. So we did.
Would you like a bagel with your spaghetti? What flavor? Oh, actually, I don't think the chocolate chip would go too well, ma'am.
Now I'm home, and the bad mood that started this morning has been steadily plummeting. Such is life when I'm left alone with my thoughts. Like I told Adam this morning, when he asked me what was wrong - the problem with having a very vivid/active imagination is that sometimes you start to believe it. Combine that with excessive paranoia, insecurity, and irrational jealousy and you'll have the cause of my foulness. Note to whoever: I am not to be trusted with my emotional well being. Restrain me. Sedate me. Perform a lobotomy or something; I don't care how you do it, but please, just FIX ME.
*sigh* Not that this is anything new. This particular little bug has been with me for a while. Months. It's like an ambiguous ache, a chafe, a fracture that never fully healed. Whenever you think it's gone, something comes along to remind you that no, it is in fact still there and probably always will be, to some degree. (Ew, that rhymed.) And then more recent issues pile on top of that one, increasing the pressure, increasing the likelihood of a rip, a strain, a break. It's not something I want to talk about literally, because I'm fully aware that it's petty and stupid and not worth my thoughts. That if I were more secure, I wouldn't even think about it. But I'm not, so I do, even though I wish I wouldn't. No matter how hard I try to push it from my mind it simply won't budge.
Yeah, so could I be a little more evasive? All of this isn't just one thing, I guess. It's multiple things that aren't really things all glomming together in the section of my brain that's labeled DOUBTS, FEARS, AND EVERYTHING BAD. I wish I could just zap that part with a little laser. Zap, zap, zap. Be gone. Stop turning me into a hysterical lunatic. Go bother someone else, or better yet, sink into the bowels of the Earth and become something good, like the warmth that's left behind from a hug or the crumbly topping on an apple crisp. Just leave me alone, for christ's sake. Haven't I worried enough?
back & forth
Wait, there's more!
I like pina coladas - March 30, 2005
must... finish... projects... - March 22, 2005
Mr. Postman delivers the good stuff - March 18, 2005
when everything is bad - March 16, 2005
of fruits and menstruation - March 15, 2005