Oh, hello, is it Monday?
1. I am in a daze, people. It is a sad, sad state of affairs when you get the Blackberry message on Sunday morning at 11:30, when you’ve already been up for two hours SO ANXIOUS, to hear that you don’t have to come in to work that day and you WEEP FROM GRATITUDE.
I am too old for this crap.*
Also, when you have spent many, many hours at work and your poor family and friends call you to check on whether you’ve gone insane or not, you have a tendency, to um, ramble on. Because you’ve had no one to talk to all week except for your coworkers, who do not want to hear about your bed frame issues, they want to know, HAVE YOU FINISHED THOSE UNANIMOUS RESOLUTIONS OF THE BOARD OF DIRECTORS IN LIEU OF A MEETING OR NOT?
OK, no one in my office yells (yet), but anxiety is high, dude. Would you like to check my blood pressure?
2. Before I blogged, I used to, um, have pretend conversations with someone in my head, you know, to work out how I felt about things. Try things on for size, pretending I was telling a story to a friend. You can refine your thoughts in the telling. I realized tonight, walking the 25-minute walk to the Trader Joe’s (exercise + chores, I am the Master of Multitasking. But only because I have to be.): now, IN LIEU, oh good grief, IN LIEU of a pretend conversation with someone, I write a pretend blog entry. Which I never post (see #1). Has this happened to any of you?
3. My Trader Joe’s is like, the mecca of hip. Oh Silver Lake, how do I love thee, let me count the cute, bearded boys toting reusable grocery bags. And you know, I am not. Hip. But luckily! It is also the mecca of WEIRD. In Hollywood, I felt out of place because my boobs didn’t reach my chin. Here, I can wear my glasses — which, HOLY COW I NEED NOW (I really thought I was immune to the curse of my family’s poor eyesight but apparently I just wasn’t doing enough due diligence) — to the store and I fit in. And I can trot out my 1979 Steve Martin Cruel Shoes baseball tee my lovely brother handed down to me and I am golden. Or wear my mother’s 1980 wool sweaters and skirts she bought in London when I was three.* I can be weird here.
4. I have yet to paint but the one nook (see #1), but I finally finished papering my built-ins (see above). I guess, looking at it from an outsider’s perspective, which is what you do when you posted a picture on the interweb, it’s not that exciting. But for me, each shelf represents a place, a period in my life (Paris, South and Central America, China (in dreams), Redding), and that shelf fourth down on the right full of empty vases? Gettin’ shoved aside in 2008. Ramblin’ on.
*Yeah, I turned 31 last Thursday. And worked ’til 11. SWEET. Also, I realized I’ve asterisked TWO ITEMS to remind you it was my birthday. Apparently I need some birthday wishes. I am 12. Well, 31, going on 12.