I am not upset when people don’t have time for me. I am a little upset because I’m starting to think I’ve heretofore restrained or debilitated them somehow, holding them back in my dysfunctional infantilism— from which they’re just now being rescued by cute boys with liquor to live happy normal lives as the people they were meant to be. Because I’m too dumb to follow them out of the tunnel, I will probably live my life in quiet, frustrating solitude and emotional isolation until I die an old maid in a pile of seed catalogues. So that’s what.
It’s starting to look like I’ll be able to swing an economically sound living space all by my lonesome. If anyone has been watching in secret waiting for an open spot in my life, I’m considering adopting a roommate. If you’re looking to relocate and help me build my temple to the forgotten goddess I’m accepting applications but know I’m probably alone in the fight for now.
My gardening habit complicates things severely. I may need to keep the bog at my dad’s place until the spring when I can safely repot to more manageable containers.
My drugs aren’t working. My mood is definitely elevated, but my attention and energy levels are much much worse. The more I read up on adhd the more I suspect it to be the secret parent of most of my anxieties and inefficiencies, and possibly my childlike wonder and excitement for the natural world or whatever. Which is great, but right now I need to find a new job and pretend to be human and really don’t have time for the perverse pleasures which assault and distract me at every turn. I could get really normal and boring real fast. But I can always back out. I’m just running out of time to get my shit together and think I should at least try.
School starts up again in about a week. I’m taking four extra-liberal arts courses, widely unrelated to any particular major. And that’s my life at the moment.
I really wanted “spinning classes” to have something to do with whirling. :-/
Throbbing Gristle - Five Knuckle Shuffle