3 December
1999
It's been a strange week. Vacations are like that. You probably know someone who has a baby. And for those new parents, it always seems like their top priority is keeping the baby's schedule. "Gotta go home and put him to bed so that we can keep him on schedule." or "I'd love to see you this afternoon, but that's her nap time, and I don't want to wreck havoc on her schedule." I'm beginning to think that I have a schedule too. And when I deviate just the smallest bit, my life is plain chaos. I can't think of any other explanation for why I feel the way I do. I feel like I'm skimming the surface of my life. There's not enough time to dive deep. Not enough attention to catch everything. Last week my days felt like my own and now I don't even recognize them. I'm only half listening to the conversations that include me. And most of the time I just end up lost. The punch line is passing me by. Right now pieces of film and paper seem more vital and genuine to me than reality. I'm thinking more about Matthew Lillard's Stevo in SLC Punk and Matthew Polly's memoir of living in China in the latest issue of Madison Magazine than I am about the flesh and oxygen and thought conglomerations around me. The air here is dryer than I can ever remember. Every time I touch my car key to the driver's door lock, I see a tiny blue spark jump from one to the other and my body winces from the smallest electric jolt. Maybe it's all this static electricity hanging in the air that's making it hard to move... to get anywhere and feel anything. Like I said, it's been a strange week. What's your week like? biggest kiss... ...kristen |
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