6:53 a.m., MLK Jr DayI used to be a morning person. I used to pop out of bed as soon as my eyes opened for the first time, no matter how many hours I slept, so long as it was at least five. But lately, I sleep and sleep and sleep, and when I wake up - usually because I have to pee so bad I can hardly lie flat - I talk myself into going back to a dream, just curl up sideways so my bladder won't be such a bother. And then, when I finally get do get up to pee, I'm trying to talk myself into going back to bed as soon as I'm done: Oh, won't it feel nice with an empty bladder?
This morning the bed didn't win. The dream I was having - being a burn victim in a hospital that serves piles of cheese pizza in the cafeteria - wasn't interesting enough to call me back. Plus, the door at the bottom of the stairs was closed all the way and Razz was clawing at it with his clawless paws - not so much to get upstairs but to get me down to fill his bowl (even though I fed him a little extra last night - it's his ritual). So I put my big, heavy terry cloth robe on over my flannel pjs and went down the two flights of stairs to the basement. And during all that time, my mind is still trying to figure out a way to get me back to bed, all the way up to the point of grinding the coffee beans.
And then, for a brief moment, I considered that I could still go to the gym; it's MLK Jr Day, there would be parking spaces. But, no, I guess I'd rather be disappointed in myself. I decided in the middle of the night, night before last, that I was gonna stop smoking pot and drinking beer (and other alcohol) for the rest of the month. But by the end of the day, I'd had a beer, a few sips of Grand Marnier and smoked a roach I found in a little tin I was putting a barely-smoked cigarette into. It was too fucking cold to stand outside and smoke a cigarette. But I can smoke weed indoors! What a Loser.
The reason I thought to take a vice break was because M had reminded me in a recent email that pot and beer might have something to do with my roller coaster emotions. But I haven't really had roller coaster emotions since I've been taking the Cymbalta. But that's why I thought it would be a good time to take a break from it all. But, no, I guess not yet.
Not yesterday, anyway.
I have a job interview at 1 p.m. today. I feel pretty good about the prospect of getting the job, I don't know why. It may interfere with my hours at Co. (afternoons - I think they're looking for evening people at Turnip Truck, and they close at 8), but hopefully I can get LW to say that's okay. I need a little bit more job than I have there, and I'm still not getting work from NYC, so I'm getting a little bit desperate. And still, on top of all of that, I would love to work at Turnip Truck. For several reasons. The main one is that I've wanted to work in a health food store for a long time. Other reasons include:
11:32 p.m.
I can't sleep, and I was going crazy trying to upstairs. Jesse had my leg room and R had a sharp elbow point poking into my upper arm, and his air passage was making a ticking sound that I couldn't drown out with earplugs jammed all the way into my eardrums. In fact, I think the earplugs magnified it! Every time his breath changed directions, it would tick.
11:38
I've made myself some tea. --Oh, and my asshole was itching. I guess I have a hemorrhoid, and an irritated crack because of it. I found a nice touch through my pajamas, nice and light, and I didn't want to stop rubbing on it all night long (I felt like a dog must feel when she's getting her belly rubbed - we both look the same, I bet).
So I got up, came downstairs, threw another blanket on the bed, put some water in the microwave, got some regular {room temp} water, too, and my journal, and climbed into the downstairs bed. The lighting is definitely better for writing here.
The interview with Je at Turnip Truck seemed to go very well today. She hinted that she would definitely be having me back for a second, short interview to meet the owner... I'm thinking now - and have been all day since then (and all night, too, obviously) - that I should go back and tell Je that I'd be interested in full-time if she's interested in having me full-time. I also (first) need to ask what the hourly rate is, and if there are any benefits (not that that would make a difference because I don't have any now). But the unspoken benefits are what I've gotten all jazzed about. I wouldn't have to drive Big Blue much at all (fuel, upkeep...); I could and would walk to work. Having one job is better than two.
(photo credit)
This morning the bed didn't win. The dream I was having - being a burn victim in a hospital that serves piles of cheese pizza in the cafeteria - wasn't interesting enough to call me back. Plus, the door at the bottom of the stairs was closed all the way and Razz was clawing at it with his clawless paws - not so much to get upstairs but to get me down to fill his bowl (even though I fed him a little extra last night - it's his ritual). So I put my big, heavy terry cloth robe on over my flannel pjs and went down the two flights of stairs to the basement. And during all that time, my mind is still trying to figure out a way to get me back to bed, all the way up to the point of grinding the coffee beans.
And then, for a brief moment, I considered that I could still go to the gym; it's MLK Jr Day, there would be parking spaces. But, no, I guess I'd rather be disappointed in myself. I decided in the middle of the night, night before last, that I was gonna stop smoking pot and drinking beer (and other alcohol) for the rest of the month. But by the end of the day, I'd had a beer, a few sips of Grand Marnier and smoked a roach I found in a little tin I was putting a barely-smoked cigarette into. It was too fucking cold to stand outside and smoke a cigarette. But I can smoke weed indoors! What a Loser.
The reason I thought to take a vice break was because M had reminded me in a recent email that pot and beer might have something to do with my roller coaster emotions. But I haven't really had roller coaster emotions since I've been taking the Cymbalta. But that's why I thought it would be a good time to take a break from it all. But, no, I guess not yet.
Not yesterday, anyway.
I have a job interview at 1 p.m. today. I feel pretty good about the prospect of getting the job, I don't know why. It may interfere with my hours at Co. (afternoons - I think they're looking for evening people at Turnip Truck, and they close at 8), but hopefully I can get LW to say that's okay. I need a little bit more job than I have there, and I'm still not getting work from NYC, so I'm getting a little bit desperate. And still, on top of all of that, I would love to work at Turnip Truck. For several reasons. The main one is that I've wanted to work in a health food store for a long time. Other reasons include:
- I spend so much money there, it would be nice to get a little discount;
- It would be good experience for me to be able to get a job west of here (Denver, Joshua Tree, wherever);
- Jo the owner is very sexy and sweet, and I'd like to find out what he's all about... straight? gay? single? partnered? I tend to think he's gay and single.
11:32 p.m.
I can't sleep, and I was going crazy trying to upstairs. Jesse had my leg room and R had a sharp elbow point poking into my upper arm, and his air passage was making a ticking sound that I couldn't drown out with earplugs jammed all the way into my eardrums. In fact, I think the earplugs magnified it! Every time his breath changed directions, it would tick.
11:38
I've made myself some tea. --Oh, and my asshole was itching. I guess I have a hemorrhoid, and an irritated crack because of it. I found a nice touch through my pajamas, nice and light, and I didn't want to stop rubbing on it all night long (I felt like a dog must feel when she's getting her belly rubbed - we both look the same, I bet).
So I got up, came downstairs, threw another blanket on the bed, put some water in the microwave, got some regular {room temp} water, too, and my journal, and climbed into the downstairs bed. The lighting is definitely better for writing here.
The interview with Je at Turnip Truck seemed to go very well today. She hinted that she would definitely be having me back for a second, short interview to meet the owner... I'm thinking now - and have been all day since then (and all night, too, obviously) - that I should go back and tell Je that I'd be interested in full-time if she's interested in having me full-time. I also (first) need to ask what the hourly rate is, and if there are any benefits (not that that would make a difference because I don't have any now). But the unspoken benefits are what I've gotten all jazzed about. I wouldn't have to drive Big Blue much at all (fuel, upkeep...); I could and would walk to work. Having one job is better than two.
(photo credit)
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