the first of october
i have this notion that if i raise my child to believe that worms are beautiful, i would have the most brilliant and perceptive child in the world.
that aside, i thought i'd do myself a favour tonight and purge everything i can remember from today. i haven't written anything about me since i've switched jobs. i haven't written anything about me since almost ever actually.
my mind's currently in slight disarray, i have topics darting back and forth, left brain, right brain, heart, mind.
but here's how today went.
i barely got enough sleep last night, having ventured into an inspiring, thrilling and a somewhat unnerving event. all i could remember from my dreams were visions of how an ideal future might pan out and the steps i would have to take in order to get there. then i woke up, it was bright, i snoozed about three times and gave in because i Really hate how my alarm sounds. that's always good right? an hour later i was on the train to work.
work. this word; WORK. it's something to do isn't it? it pays me, so i'll do it. most of you, if there are any of 'you's here, would know that i work for an online fashion/random objects company. i say random objects because we sell vacuums and breast pumps too. have you heard? what i do isn't what i want to do. like i said, i do it because it pays, i get to work with good friends and work is actually fun, i'll admit. i don't dread going to work. it takes me an hour to get there and i'm actually very punctual as compared to when i was working only twenty minutes away from home and i would get there late, every single day because i really hated, i was so completely sick of doing absolutely Nothing with my life, at this excuse of an ex-job. but that's done, i won't dwell.
work was fine, it was a slow day. days have been slow for awhile now so no complaints there. the benefits of the second move back to a previous office i wasn't at (breathe, please) are that i get to eye a handsome english man and sit right across erny. we skype each other and visibly see responses form on our faces before they appear on-screen. it always amazes me. we don't laugh That hard sometimes.
half a caramel milk tea and half a cigarette later, i was on a bus that would bridge me to my technological needs.
i bought two mice. i wish i was talking about animals. my dad used to have white mice. we had a little cage and everything.
i bought two mice, one green (for work) and one black (for my room) and i spent about fifteen minutes deciding between the two sections of mouse displays. i will mostly always spend more time on gadgets and accesories than clothes. i'm sorry clothes, i love you but i hate looking for you. you're like lost love. or a really good pencil. or one side of a favourite pair of socks.
a wild jacq appeared and we found a stash of iPhone covers. since we both have shit for covers, we rummaged through a pile and i found, of course, something green and white and rubbery. wish they coloured male genitalia that way, maybe on mars, we'll see. point is, i bought it. it was green, there was no other option. i was happy.
we had pancakes. chocolate pancakes with lemon curd for a nerd (i quote) and vanilla ice cream. i never feel good after anything like that. a sweet, sweet process but with a deathly outcome. headache inducing.
now let me talk about bus rides, i love bus rides. i used to never be able to sleep on public transport but i love bus rides. there's something about closing your eyes to a song you never quite paid full attention to as you're slowly but sometimes aggressively rocked about. then you hear it; a voice that that travels through your body and stops at the heart. pain is universal. feelings shared. someone else has put a piece of your structured mess into a verse. you smile and note it down and then eventually you quote it. to whom or what it applies to, is for no one else to know but you. in that moment it was your song.
i can actually feel a small calm settling over my head as i ease they day out through my fingers. it hasn't even been a particularly hard or difficult day. rather normal, questionably mundane. i've actually decided to leave out all the ill i had been feeling as i began this entry because what was the point? to turn this somewhat chipper piece into something ugly and full of hate? i'm not that person now. she's still here but i bought a good box with a strong lock and decorated the base with soft green felt and the sides with photographs of better times. i told her at least she had them and we all know that memories are strong, strong weapons. i've used the key about three times now. i'd say that's pretty good considering that the box is a year and a half old.
& with that, goodnight.