Today’s moment of grace came when the tall too-handsome blond boy asked for his second mocha, and laughed because we knew what he wanted and had already started making it. “I obviously come here way too often,” he said, smiling his dimpled smile. He is working on a screenplay, and was on his second mocha – with whipped cream, “absolutely” – because he hadn’t slept last night. “It’s not that you come here too often,” I replied, smiling as I moved the airpots into a more pleasing configuration. “You’re just always so genuinely pleased about your mocha. That’s why we remember.” She handed him his drink – with lots of whipped cream – and he asked “Could I have some chocolate syrup, please?”
I’m totally cool with non-stop Olympics coverage – especially when the coverage is as spectacular as Michael Phelps’s abs and Paul Hamm’s amazing come-back from falling on his butt and the women’s relay race where all the girls were screaming and the swimmer was ahead of the “world record line” (which is so freaking cool to begin with). The only flaw in this whole system is that non-stop Olympic coverage means no Law & Order. And that’s just sad.
However, for your reading pleasure, I provide Spider-Man 2: Webslinger or Weblogger?. It’s a good time.
Addendum: if you happen to have four sons and one daughter, do NOT name them all the same thing. I just worked a family with five Daniels (including the dad) and one Danielle. I’m sorry – that’s just wrong.
It’s fairly early, but I’m off to bed. Few things seem to affect my mental state as much as lack of sleep, and I could definitely feel that today. I offered to take any of the rough patients and/or coworkers as I wasn’t taking any shit from anyone, period. Side note: it’s becoming increasingly apparent why we need to track our productivity at work – people spend a stunning amount of time fucking around, wandering around, and talking to friends. And I felt bad for checking my email!
Anyway, tonight I was indoctrinated into the wonders of the 2004 Olympics, as well as Michael Phelps’s stunning torso. I think his abs deserve their own gold medal. I stopped by Shawn‘s for a few minutes which turned into a couple of hours, and I got home a few minutes ago in a much better mood.
Other things in my life – my parents are coming for the weekend, which will be nice. My dad hasn’t been down since I moved, so I’m looking forward to spending some quality time with him/them. My new landlord is great but keeps coming by at the oddest times – namely when I’m in a state of undress. He came by Saturday while we were still in bed – and last night when I was getting ready to shower. He has, however, done nothing about the giant pile of trash that has taken over my parking spot. Hmm. Work sucks most of the time, but I continue to love Aroma, even though working there leads to days of sheer exhaustion. I feel like I haven’t done anything but work and sleep for the last couple of weeks, which is I suppose not much different than the norm – but I’m looking forward to Events of Interest cropping up once the semester starts. Mainly I’m just looking forward to sleep.
It is 12:55am and someone in my building is vacuuming. Today was double shifts, lots of coffee, some isolation, and lots of babbling. I’ve been promised free reign over the music at work tomorrow. (Sidebar: should it be ‘reign’ or ‘rein’? Because I will ‘reign’ over the radio like a queen, but I will also have free ‘rein’, as in control. Hmm.) We watched one terrible movie yesterday, and one really good one. We had shrimp curry and apple pie on my porch. My bed was wonderful and warm, and I suspect it is calling my name as I write this. Much love to you all. Do write soon. My inbox is feeling lonely.
I had a weird half-hour or so this afternoon where I felt entirely out of touch with my body. Something happened, and I was freaked out and shaky, and rather than just chilling and calming down, I went on with my day. I wandered around Meijer in a bit of a daze, really out of it and a little scared of everything around me. I don’t think I’ve ever felt that way before. It was a really strange feeling.
I’ve been on Paxil about a week now, and I wonder if it’s doing anything. I wondered the same thing when I was on Lexapro a year ago – if the drugs I was putting in my body were actually doing anything or if my mental state was just improving on its own. I suppose this week probably hasn’t been the best on which to judge changing mental and/or emotional states. I really wore myself thin this week between the move and work and unpacking and spending time with Shawn and such – to bed after 1 and up at 7 every day. I feel steadier, though, and I’ve laughed a lot in the last 24 hours between general silliness and good times with Shawn and the bizarre-itude that is reading Seventeen magazine with Megan at work.
I don’t know. Maybe I question these things too much. *shrugs* What I definitely know is that I need to take better care of myself – physically, emotionally, spiritually, intellectually, etc. My diet has been complete and utter shit the entire summer. I haven’t had any regular exercise in months. My sleep is still fucked, and going to bed late isn’t helping. I’m going to try to change all of that, though. I’m hoping to start doing yoga in the fall. I’m going to cook more, and (attempt to) go out less. I need to figure out what’s going on with my body, and I can’t do that while I’m treating it like shit.
Each season seems to have its own signature moment for me – sometimes there’s a new one each year, sometimes they carry over. One of my signature summer moments was swimming in the river two years ago with Eva – it was an unbearably hot June day, and we waded into the river still in our summer dresses. I floated on my back and looked at the clear summer sky, the sun drying my dress while still in the water. Fall is unexpected days off – sick days, usually – spent curled up in blankets on the couch drinking tea and watching bad TV. I was home sick on 9/11, and I remember watching Sweet November on pay per view just to get away from the constant coverage. A moment from this last winter – sitting in bed at Shawn’s, the two of us wearing his button-down long-sleeved shirts to stay warm despite the piles of blankets, reading in bed, playing on his laptop, and drinking coffee. Springtime – the first weekend it was really, really nice – walking from Shawn’s apartment to Aroma, and eating on the patio in the sunshine – people-watching and loving my new home all over again.
It’s still summer but the unseasonably cold weather has got me thinking about fall, about the changing leaves and apple cider and sweaters and curling up with my boy. I’m thinking about sick days on the couch with a mug of cocoa. I’m thinking about fuzzy tights. I’m almost ready to put my sandals away. The summer heat will come back, but I don’t think I want it to – not yet.
In the last hour I:
Back off, man! I’m a scientist.