(no subject)
Somewhat surprisingly, no hangover this morning. Vague headache, and the realisation that doing things balancing on top of a ladder probably wasn't the best idea, but nothing worse.
Sunday R. and I were in Klosterneuburg, to visit the Essl museum; the exhibition on modern Mexican art was interesting, R. loved Diego Riviera, I preferred the paintings by José Clemente Orozco, and there were a couple of others I really liked, but I didn't take notes like I usually do when I'm at an exhibition on my own so I'm kind of lost for the moment. The Maria Lassnig exhibition was... hard to describe, I find her paintings intriguing and disconcerting at the same time. Interesting contrast, too, come to think of it, the social concern of the Mexican painters and Lassning's more private images and vision of the human body. Modern art still mostly baffles me, and with few exceptions is not really something I like instinctively, but I've been trying to broaden my horizons recently and actually like discovering new artists for myself...
Monday... one of those truly horrible days at work. I think perhaps the hard thing is when you've done something that fits you, that is you, art, writing, thinking, your mind & imagination alert, and then to be stuck again in the mind-numbing routine... anger, restlessness, frustration, changing to apathy and tiredness in the afternoon.
U. called, if I wanted to have a drink after work with some co-workers; I didn't, but it was her birthday, so I went along, & chatted & got drunk & contrary to expectations it wasn't too bad. A weird, but not entirely unpleasant sense of belonging, of not being different all the time, and it didn't feel too wrong, or fake, it was kind of nice. ::shrug:: Probably no one but me would over-analyse getting drunk with a few co-workers... it's just not a thing I usually do, and it felt less weird/awkward than I thought it would.
And maybe I should really start to question my (a?)sexuality, because I found not-really-co-worker-from-another-shop-who-I-barely-know's breasts a little distracting, and that was only half-way through the first drink. Granted, they were pretty, and rather, er, on display, so to speak, but finding them distracting, as in, sexually attractive at all, is another thing that is weird for me, because usually I don't find much of anything sexually attractive, breasts or other body-parts.
Then again perhaps it was the alcohol, because I seem to have reverted to my usual asexual self already & find writing about this slightly strange, like someone else's experience, nothing that I could have felt.
He. I actually managed to finish this entry. Go me, or something.