|Malaise gives way to frantic panic and abject despair
||[Oct. 28th, 2009|08:51 am]
Okay, that's a little dramatic. But clearly, I suck at Malaise. The whole, oh, I dunno, I just don't FEEL like doing anything, blah, the world sucks, why bother....|
Like a hat, it's rare that it looks good on me and I can only wear it so long until it gets itchy. And then my hair looks like ASS, which makes me swear I'll never wear another one.
What's up with that, anyway? I can style my hair, use tools, hair products, even have a professional do it. And within four hours (assuming humidity is manageable and it's not raining) my hair is back to doing what it wants. If there's damp involved, I can't get from the salon to my car without my hair going back to its ur-style of alternating hanging and curling randomly with no rhyme, reason or thought to complimentary framing of my face.
But put a baseball cap on for two freaking minutes to run out and put away the trash cans, only because I planned poorly, do not have waterproof mascara on and it's raining. Two minutes of hat. An entire day of my bangs laying pressed down and extra-wonky. And I can wet them all I want, use all the hair product I want, but nooooo. If it doesn't involve shampoo, conditioner, they will be wonky and badfunky all day. Bastard hair.
The malaise and how it doesn't fit me nearly as much as arm-chewing, flat out panic and despair. Lying around, sighing pointedly...I wish. Instead: paralyzed by options, freaking out over alternatives, despairing over task lists, panicked by ticking clocks, flipping calendar pages, desperately procrastinating because that always makes it...worse. Trapped in one place, frozen in handwringing fear, trying to decide what would make me feel better, a big bowl of hot buttered popcorn or chewing off my own arm...
That's more my style.
4:45am: Oh, god, I am SO tired. What's this, day 53 of trying to get to bed early and managing to get into bed at 10:20 or later? Expletive. Why do I suck so bad at getting some sleep? What's wrong with me? I need to take a day off just to sleep.
5:30am: Taking a shower, surveying the bathroom, I am totally disgusted with the level of filth and disorder in the bathroom. Really? Am I living like this? I've seen bathrooms in college-age men's apartments cleaner than this. Straight men, even. Something's got to change. I need to take a day off just to clean the house.
6:00am: Trying to finish the damn neighborhood Scary Perry newsletter, but there is one important thing that NEEDS to be covered and I can't remember what it is. This should have been out and delivered on Sunday. Late, I'm late with everything. If only people had given me their e-mail addresses like I asked, I wouldn't be so late and wouldn't be killing trees, or needing to take it to work to get it copied because it's raining and the inkjet ink will run, why won't it stop raining, oh, god it's going to rain on Halloween and not only will all of this effort and stress be for relatively nothing, all of our friends will then be in the house and it will be loud and I'll have a sensory integration episode and totally freak out on them and no one will like me.
6:15am: Adding clip art and for some reason, it's not bumping the text out of the way. Why does everything have to be so bloody hard? Why have I never hooked the laser printer up to this computer that works, instead of to the other computer that only sort of works, but it still here on my desk, too because I'm still trying to figure out how to transfer my recipe stuff, why does that have to be hard. I need to take a day off just to straighten out all of my computer stuff. But at least now I remember that I needed to add a bit about the luminary filling on Friday night.
6:25am: Ah, crap. Percy's "emergency" pads are all down in the dryer. Run down to haul them upstairs. Remember that I forgot to spray a clearcoat on the "Road Closed" signs that were supposed to go up on Saturday and now have to be sprayed because it's raining (see previous rain loopofthought). Grab pads, manage to snag pantyhose on something on the way back up, insert the "why can't we put anything away/where it belongs" loopofthought. Huge ladder in the hose, totally wrecked and, of course, I have no other clean ones because I had to wash dog stuff last night. Why isn't that damn dog dead yet, a load of laundry or more every day, midday walks, cleaning up, what if he lives to be 17, like that one greyhound?
6:27am: Come upstairs to see Percy sitting in Anubis-pose waiting for me and feel horrible, just horrible, omigod I love this dog and will be so devastated when he goes. Oh, please don't die, I can't handle ONE MORE THING right now.
6:30am: Late for work, chase racoons out of garbage cans, I can't believe it's raining. Still. Again. Oh, please let it not rain on Halloween. I'm cold, I'm wet, my car is covered in wet leaves, I just dropped my freaking keys in the dark on the leaf and gravel driveway. Expletive. Find them, promptly drop cell phone. Mother of god, why does everything have to be so hard?
And that's before I get to work. Where the trauma of confronting 45 days worth of work that has to get done in 7 has so paralyzed me that I needed to come here to exorcise the panic with words.
But seriously. It had better not rain this Saturday. Really.