So I'm sick today a little, and I'm wondering if it's the Taco Bell. I've been not . . right, every so often, for quite some time now. Let me get more specific: let's say about once a week, for the past few months. Maybe longer. I don't remember. I was thinking I should start keeping track of what I eat, so that I can try to figure out what it is that's making me sick. I was thinking that this also would result in me having a BIG LONG LIST of shit every day, and maybe this too would shame me into eating less.
I also need to start exercising, or something, but I . . . I find it so hard to start things. To initiate anything, and also to talk on the phone. My car window which has been broken since January is still broken. I need to make appointments soon to see an eye doctor, a lady's doctor, I guess I should see a dentist (it's been years), and for goodness sake, a freaking head doctor. Although I've been thinking about it, and I wonder if just seeing a shrink, I wonder if I'll end up using THAT as a cop-out as well. "Well, sure, I know I have this ridiculous personality flaw, but I'm seeing a therapist! So it's okay!" I have this thing that I realize I've been doing since middle school, and that is this: I fancy myself an intelligent and logical person, and therefore I am able to IDENTIFY the things that are wrong with me, the fucked-up things that I do, and why I do them. And as soon as I do that, that's it, I'm done, I stop. I identify the problem, but do little to change anything. How ridiculous! And isn't it cute that me recognizing THAT is the same thing all over? How clever! So I'm afraid I'll go see a shrink, and tell him/her all the things that are wrong with me, and he or she will tell me that that's right, and that's bullshit, so I should get going on fixing everything, and then I'll get frustrated and say that he or she isn't telling me anything I don't know already, and I'll stop. Or what if he or she has a totally different value structure than mine, and when I tell him or her things that are important to me, he or she will tell me my priorites are misplaced? But on the other hand, I certainly don't want anyone to sit there and tell me that I'm doing everything right, what good would that do me? How do you choose a therapist, anyway? I've had a hell of a time finding FRIENDS that I like in this life of mine -- how does one choose someone to whom one's most disgusting secrets and desires will be revealed? And then they have to react to said secrets and desires in a way which one would LIKE to react if one didn't have all this other CRAP and MENTAL WEIRDICIES getting in the way.
Is any of this making sense?
So as of this morning I had sworn off eating, and smoking, and drinking. And had embraced fully going to the beach by myself, and exercising my means of walking, free weights, and Pilates, and working on various projects of html, photographic, and Olympic significance. Oh and cooking and carpentry. And astro-turf, I bought astro-turf last spring to put on my balcony, and still it sits in my hall closet, taking up a ridiculous amount of awkward space. And after Mitch bought me a staple-gun for Christmas and everything! I bought it so that when I was reading on my balcony eating baby carrots, and I accidentally dropped a baby carrot, it wouldn't land on the patio of my downstairs neighbor, because my downstairs neighbor frightens me.
I'm really okay, actually, I swear. I'm just sick, a little bit.
OH and for a while I was totally completely hysterically but not really upset about shit at work. By which I mean I wasn't that upset, but I maybe should have been or at the very least more concerned, but I tried not to think about it and then last week one time when Mitch was over and we were high and allofasudden BAM I was thinking about it, and I was like "oh my God, I am going to FLIP OUT right now, right now, I'm going to fucking freak and flip out and get hysterical for no good goddamn reason, and that would be a TOTAL bummer especially with Mitch here, so I need to go to bed or fucking something," but then now today someone is not taking it off of my hands, but taking CONTROL, which is good, because I didn't know what to do but I hate asking questions I HATE asking questions, but the person I would ask is on honeymoon in Tahiti anyway, so I didn't even know WHO to ask questions of, but now today everything looks like it's going to be okay, and so what this stuff took weeks longer than it was supposed to take, but there wasn't a real deadline or anything, so I think it'll all be all right.
I'm really okay, kids, I swear.