Friday February 11, 2005: full up
I am good at obsessing about things.
Now, lest you think I'm more of a nutcase than I actually am, let me say that I almost never obsess about things I don't mean to obsess about. I occasionally obsess a little about Cricket's angst, but that's only natural since her expression of angst is poetry written in pee.
I can't read poetry written in pee, but the other cats assure me it's quite good "if you like that sort of thing." Evidently, frequency, volume, location, and scent are all part of the poem. Fortunately, due to some antibiotics, she is now less interested in writing pee poems and is going back to being interested in expressing herself by climbing on things.
It's not much, but I'll take it.
Anyway, obsession. I'm good at obsessing about things I want to be obsessed about. Like what I'm writing. Half the time, right now, I'm in my own fictional universe which is large, messy, and involves tricky romantic situations. I'm also obsessing about what I'm eating (but mostly not in a dysfunctional sort of way) and my efforts to get back to the level of fitness I was at before book obsession and the need to take some time off to heal my damned foot derailed me.
I obsess about organization. Right now, I am obsessing about trying to get rid of a whole bunch of stuff in my house that I no longer need. I am obsessing about trying to switch my bedroom and my office so the larger space can be a studio and the smaller space can be just the place that I sleep. (It's not like I need a lot of space to sleep in, and I do need an indoor space that I can set up to do portraits.) I have also bought a labelmaker for work and have been happily labeling things off and on all day.
I obsess about what I'm doing creatively. I dream about things I want to make, and make lists, and sometimes I even get around to making something. There are only twenty-four hours in a day and sometimes it's a shame I spend ten of them either at work or on my way to and from work. There are days that I think I need a sugar parent of some sort, but then I wonder if having more time to do stuff would mean I do less of it.
Thinking about, it though: no. Every spare moment I have these days, I'm doing something.
I'm going to Iowa in late April/early May.
Remember Ragged Robin (aka Melanie)? The ex-girlfriend who I carried a torch for for so many years? Well, she's getting married.
I'm officiating.
Her parents, thankfully, are taking this in stride. I'm taking a week or so off of work and making this an actual vacation, complete with a couple of days off at the end that I'll be at home with. I'm flying into Minneapolis, it looks like, because Chicago traffic terrifies me and flying into Cedar Rapids costs about $400. That way, I can have dinner with friends and see my grandmother on my way down to Iowa.
I think I'm staying in a hotel unless Melanie decides that I need to stay with her; I can afford it, and it would be nice to have a place to go at the end of the day that didn't have anyone else in it. And you know, hotels in Iowa? So. Cheap. A nice B∓B tends to run about $70 a night.
And since I'm likely staying in IC, I mean to wander into the offices of a couple of professors I got to know pretty well while I was there. IC's pretty depressing, nowadays, but I did spend four reasonably happy years there, and I ought to be able to amuse myself for three or four days, really.
Plus, I'll probably be deep into the book at that point, and IC has a lot of good places to hole up and write.
And now I can return to obsessing about what on earth I'm going to wear. Suit coat. Must purchase a suit coat.
By the way, I did [url=http://www.doomcookie.com/galleries/index.php?album=book_of_days/2004_December_31]a
photo session[/url] at the New Year's Eve party, and those are pictures of many of the people I know all dressed up.
I bought an mp3 player a few weeks ago, and I've been using it on my runs. I have to say that music makes running quite a bit more enjoyable--it's a distraction from my own breath and the burning my legs.
The trail is my meditation and my morning devotional, and also the most physically difficult part of my day. If I can run three miles in the morning, everything else is pretty much cake.
And it's a small price to pay for sanity, really.
Now, lest you think I'm more of a nutcase than I actually am, let me say that I almost never obsess about things I don't mean to obsess about. I occasionally obsess a little about Cricket's angst, but that's only natural since her expression of angst is poetry written in pee.
I can't read poetry written in pee, but the other cats assure me it's quite good "if you like that sort of thing." Evidently, frequency, volume, location, and scent are all part of the poem. Fortunately, due to some antibiotics, she is now less interested in writing pee poems and is going back to being interested in expressing herself by climbing on things.
It's not much, but I'll take it.
Anyway, obsession. I'm good at obsessing about things I want to be obsessed about. Like what I'm writing. Half the time, right now, I'm in my own fictional universe which is large, messy, and involves tricky romantic situations. I'm also obsessing about what I'm eating (but mostly not in a dysfunctional sort of way) and my efforts to get back to the level of fitness I was at before book obsession and the need to take some time off to heal my damned foot derailed me.
I obsess about organization. Right now, I am obsessing about trying to get rid of a whole bunch of stuff in my house that I no longer need. I am obsessing about trying to switch my bedroom and my office so the larger space can be a studio and the smaller space can be just the place that I sleep. (It's not like I need a lot of space to sleep in, and I do need an indoor space that I can set up to do portraits.) I have also bought a labelmaker for work and have been happily labeling things off and on all day.
I obsess about what I'm doing creatively. I dream about things I want to make, and make lists, and sometimes I even get around to making something. There are only twenty-four hours in a day and sometimes it's a shame I spend ten of them either at work or on my way to and from work. There are days that I think I need a sugar parent of some sort, but then I wonder if having more time to do stuff would mean I do less of it.
Thinking about, it though: no. Every spare moment I have these days, I'm doing something.
I'm going to Iowa in late April/early May.
Remember Ragged Robin (aka Melanie)? The ex-girlfriend who I carried a torch for for so many years? Well, she's getting married.
I'm officiating.
Her parents, thankfully, are taking this in stride. I'm taking a week or so off of work and making this an actual vacation, complete with a couple of days off at the end that I'll be at home with. I'm flying into Minneapolis, it looks like, because Chicago traffic terrifies me and flying into Cedar Rapids costs about $400. That way, I can have dinner with friends and see my grandmother on my way down to Iowa.
I think I'm staying in a hotel unless Melanie decides that I need to stay with her; I can afford it, and it would be nice to have a place to go at the end of the day that didn't have anyone else in it. And you know, hotels in Iowa? So. Cheap. A nice B∓B tends to run about $70 a night.
And since I'm likely staying in IC, I mean to wander into the offices of a couple of professors I got to know pretty well while I was there. IC's pretty depressing, nowadays, but I did spend four reasonably happy years there, and I ought to be able to amuse myself for three or four days, really.
Plus, I'll probably be deep into the book at that point, and IC has a lot of good places to hole up and write.
And now I can return to obsessing about what on earth I'm going to wear. Suit coat. Must purchase a suit coat.
By the way, I did [url=http://www.doomcookie.com/galleries/index.php?album=book_of_days/2004_December_31]a
photo session[/url] at the New Year's Eve party, and those are pictures of many of the people I know all dressed up.
I bought an mp3 player a few weeks ago, and I've been using it on my runs. I have to say that music makes running quite a bit more enjoyable--it's a distraction from my own breath and the burning my legs.
The trail is my meditation and my morning devotional, and also the most physically difficult part of my day. If I can run three miles in the morning, everything else is pretty much cake.
And it's a small price to pay for sanity, really.
