(no subject)
Now don't get me wrong, this place is great, but their is just something so stifling about the knowledge of your best friend wandering about within blocks of where you are sitting whilst you sit at work counting minutes until 6 o'clock. (That late really? No, today it will be an early one - even though it should not be -- maintaining your ethical standards of putting in your full unpaid 8 hours is not typically that difficult for me. This week it has been.)
This is a pretty particular anxiety that reminds me of how I felt during dance in 6th grade with Nancy. You know, it was the end of the day, 2:30 pm, and the light outside was just starting to turn distinctly "afternoon" and you had this sense of impending "this is my absolute last chance" doom.
And there we were, spandexed and big t-shirts/tank-tops in front of mirrors bending sideways. My heart would get so knotted up and tense, to the point that even once I left - the relief was minimal; I only felt that release until I found some activity for myself that suited my desires just a little bit better. Six square maybe? Going to Jen's house? Running outside with D'D'?
A quick trip to Meijer's or the gas station or dairy mat or poppleton or manor before rehearsal?
By 3:11 pm I would look at the clock and would determine that, for some reason, counting down the 240 seconds until class was over was completely reasonable -- but counting down from 300 seconds would have been "too much".
I actually miss all of that.
such a beautiful day out there, blue sky, little puffy clouds
is what I just overheard from coworker just returning from exploratory trip to the Lincoln. All that is visible of the outdoors to me is:
1. a one square foot span of window intersected by a window pane about 20 feet away from me over my left shoulder.
2. from the cameras trained on the White House from Pebble Beach that has streaming live feed to the TV set on my desk.
....
Onto other news, the phrase "losing touch" is pretty incredible.
remember remember what wes anderson & jason schwartzman said!? oh the gap between the fingers, the sistine chapel! are they reaching for eachother or falling away?
But really, it is sort of wrenching and heart breaking, that process, of you know, losing touch.
i won't lose touch with .
This is a pretty particular anxiety that reminds me of how I felt during dance in 6th grade with Nancy. You know, it was the end of the day, 2:30 pm, and the light outside was just starting to turn distinctly "afternoon" and you had this sense of impending "this is my absolute last chance" doom.
And there we were, spandexed and big t-shirts/tank-tops in front of mirrors bending sideways. My heart would get so knotted up and tense, to the point that even once I left - the relief was minimal; I only felt that release until I found some activity for myself that suited my desires just a little bit better. Six square maybe? Going to Jen's house? Running outside with D'D'?
A quick trip to Meijer's or the gas station or dairy mat or poppleton or manor before rehearsal?
By 3:11 pm I would look at the clock and would determine that, for some reason, counting down the 240 seconds until class was over was completely reasonable -- but counting down from 300 seconds would have been "too much".
I actually miss all of that.
such a beautiful day out there, blue sky, little puffy clouds
is what I just overheard from coworker just returning from exploratory trip to the Lincoln. All that is visible of the outdoors to me is:
1. a one square foot span of window intersected by a window pane about 20 feet away from me over my left shoulder.
2. from the cameras trained on the White House from Pebble Beach that has streaming live feed to the TV set on my desk.
....
Onto other news, the phrase "losing touch" is pretty incredible.
remember remember what wes anderson & jason schwartzman said!? oh the gap between the fingers, the sistine chapel! are they reaching for eachother or falling away?
But really, it is sort of wrenching and heart breaking, that process, of you know, losing touch.
i won't lose touch with .