I never used to experience anything that could be easily identified as ~PMS~ but as I’ve gotten older I’ve begun to notice definite changes in my physique, priorities and emotional responses for a handful of days every five weeks or so
this month it’s manifested as a fervent conviction that if i don’t find The Once and Future Boots soon i’m going to have to set myself on fire
It’s the sixth day of the new year and I’ve had four dreams that I can remember. I indulge in superstition without really committing to it - I like blaming my chronic inability to decide anything on being a Libra because it means I won’t have to confront the fact that I am inherently weak willed, and I like paying attention to my dreams because it implies that my Brain Problems could actually help me predict the future instead of ruining my life in the present. The first was one of those shockingly close to real-life ones, no melting walls or sudden evaporation of my kneecaps, but a satisfying exchange with someone I’ll likely never see again but harbor a lot of anxieties toward. Then I dreamt of doing laundry; still some encouraging symbolism and at the very least relaxing.
I had another significant one this morning before I woke up at 7.30 to drink a glass of water and pick mascara crumbs out of my eyes, and was determined to remember it when I woke up again a few hours later, but sadly it’s been replaced by the much less significant but probably closer-to-real-life scene of me standing on a sidewalk crying in frustration because I don’t know how to read a bus schedule.
Aran did a real nice thing for my birthday and got my old green bike fixed up. I’m really glad he did, because it’s a nice machine and I’m fond of it and I popped a tube on my primary bike a couple days ago and haven’t gotten a chance to replace it yet.
thing is, he didn’t really believe I needed the seat post as high as I had it, so he dropped it down to the frame; plus the fixture wasn’t really tightened so the seat kept turning as I rode.
anyway the point is I now have an approximate idea of what it’s like to propel yourself a mile and a quarter in a wobbly office chair
I flirt with different radio streams while I have lonely office days like this one, and the host of this program out of Austin is impressively adept at making me hear his smirk. All long pauses and fake-intellectual tangents - it’s pretty astounding.
here is an example of how he introduces songs:
So think of Ozymandias, the British Museum, and Ramses II as you hear Coldplay’s…’Viva La Vida.’
receptioneering at the ‘meditation center.’ reading through bridal magazines to substitute (obnoxious) horror and scorn for boredom. now this tiny office smells like year-old perfume samples.
I went over to my dad’s to do my taxes last night and his wife was watching Bus Stop on PBS.
Marilyn Monroe’s “hillbilly” accent sounds almost exactly like Forrest Gump.