(no subject)
The ghost in our apartment doesn't like David Bowie. It paused a song while I was in the shower on Friday, I guess to make a point of this. (Although, honestly, I have tried rationalizing this to myself by saying that a minuscule paint chip must have fallen from the ceiling and hit the button. I tried telling myself that the super came in without me hearing and for no foreseeable reason and hated David Bowie so much that he paused it. Except that the door was still bolted and chained when I got out and I was still the only living thing in the apartment. Oh well.) I still like to believe that the banging on the roof some nights is either overweight squirrels or our neighbors getting wasted and going up there. I suggested bringing in a Ouija board last night, but Maria vetoed the idea, which is probably for the best. The last time I used a Ouija board, I was eight or ten, with Maureen and Lindsay (maybe Taylor-Lynn, too--I can't remember), and all of the lights in the room we were using went out. Yes, it was probably a blown fuse or something. But still. We didn't so much ever use the Ouija board after that again.
I am very superstitious in some ways. I won't even look into a mirror in a dark room.
I feel pretty listless lately, but that's been a trend for the last year. I do force myself to work too much, and I realize more and more how little it seems to do for me. I want to work in a recording studio. I want to spend time with my friends. I want to stop doing thankless work. I want to not hold things in. I want to repair friendships. I want to stop neglecting real life for fucking work (I bet Mike would like to slap me upside the head for coming to this conclusion now). My fears of failure and rejection are far too overdeveloped. I thought a lot about this after I passed out for the second time today (note to self: find a way to sleep better, even if it means taking medication, because I've passed out too much in the last six months).
I am very superstitious in some ways. I won't even look into a mirror in a dark room.
I feel pretty listless lately, but that's been a trend for the last year. I do force myself to work too much, and I realize more and more how little it seems to do for me. I want to work in a recording studio. I want to spend time with my friends. I want to stop doing thankless work. I want to not hold things in. I want to repair friendships. I want to stop neglecting real life for fucking work (I bet Mike would like to slap me upside the head for coming to this conclusion now). My fears of failure and rejection are far too overdeveloped. I thought a lot about this after I passed out for the second time today (note to self: find a way to sleep better, even if it means taking medication, because I've passed out too much in the last six months).