I have been sleeping both little and poorly lately, because the inside of my head is all spinny, so I've spent the last few days in a sort of haze. This has involved a lot of standing slack-jawed in my living room, going, "Ok, what am I doing? Oh yeah, clothes...I'm going out. Where am I going? Oooh, that sunset is pretty. Does this match? .....do I care? Say, I like this song! Dance party! Hold on, my plants need watering. I think. Wait, what am I doing?" This happens every couple of months. If I were a car, the aerial view of the tight circles my brain is making would look like the Daytona 500. No, really.
The weekend started with staying out too late drinking champagne and whiskey because, hey, it's not like I'd be sleeping anyway. Unfortunately, subsequent to that decision I came home and made a fool of myself, since part of being samantha is making yourself sound like a total nutbar occasionally. Occupational hazard. Aside from some lunar eclipse hunting and a frustrating trip to Ballard, the rest of the last few days were largely devoted to food. I lost a bit of weight in February, pounds that I can ill afford to be shed of because I am a wee thing, but the last couple of days should have put me well on the way to rectifying that, with all of the pasta and biscuits and gravy and hashbrowns and lamb.
When I came home last night a small orange post-it was stuck right below my doorknob. It said, "the future is just like today, only longer." Sometimes, Seattle, you worry me a little.
No comments:
Post a Comment