(no subject)
She's got that smell that I always associate with her. It's not unlike mothballs, the way the closet in her house smells. it's subtle, but her clothes, her hands, her face, everything she carries with her evoke that scent-triggered ennui that I associate with her. She's too nice to me, and as a result, every time the thoughts that run through my head in the new found alone time I have when I'm not busy give me a strong urge to drink myself to a numbing stupor when they end up stuck on how much of a jerk I've been, and not just to her.
I've toned down the drinking lately. A little bit.
My band has a member who recently decided that he wants to part because of "lifestyle differences" between him and the rest of the band (which is pretty much everyone else but me). All this extra tension adds to my already record high peak of anxiety caused by a fantastically efficient combination of sleep deprivation, over working and stress. Things were just fine a few weeks ago. On top of everything, the new Radiohead album was kind of disappointing.
I really want to buy a nice drum machine and see what kind of shit I can get myself into with that. I don't like having to rely on other musicians (besides Rick, who rocks my b0x0rs).
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It looks like I may move in with rick into an apartment in the galleria area. That's going to be so 1337.