Time though has begun really to worry me with its ever-increasing velocity. It seems like I have all these things I want to do but it is becoming ever more clear that I do not have forever to do them. I used to. You know?
My sleep schedule is all over the map and in fact I thought I was becoming diurnal but then I fell asleep at 5am and slept till 1 this afternoon and now I am not sure really what time it should be nor what I should be doing. The vet's office closes in an hour and a half so I do have to get dressed and go buy catfood shortly. Beyond that, I have cereal enough for tonight but could use something proteinaceous for dinner. It is Friday night so there will be people out in my neighborhood very late--er, until about 2am. This city is so very strange in its apparent desire to be New York while keeping a bedtime of 8:30pm sharp on school/work nights. Obviously our economy is not diversified enough; otherwise there'd be more people up in the middle of the night.
My life continues with its ever agonizingly slow amble towards whatever it is that awaits me. I need to finish editing my galleys so that Lyn can have a second go at typesetting them but because Judith is writing me a blurb on August 24 (or that's when she said she could deliver it--I don't really know when she'll be writing it) I feel like there is time to spare but I realize then that the faster we get through all the typesetting stuff the faster it can go to the printer after Judith gives us her benediction.
In the meantime I am trying to organize the mountain of random interjections that I think will make up my autobiography. I started writing it in a single file but at some point it mushroomed into, seriously, hundreds. Hundreds of files. Or at least hundred of files. I could probably make a hypertext volume out of it but that wave passed long ago and people are back to linear print even on electronic devices. The world is mad.
My efforts to learn how to play the guitar after having done so by ear for thirty years are going ok. The nice thing about not learning anything remotely theoretical about playing until you've limbered your fingers up real good is that the actual playing of what I learn is now relatively easy. The hard part is trying to approach musical notation from the standpoint of the fretboard. The piano was so, so much easier, with its single place to play every single note. My favorite chord, Em, is completely foreign to me when written on the staff. Do any guitar players learn to recognize chords from the staff? Nothing about musical notation gives you the slightest hint where to put your fingers if you are a guitar player. Keyboards, sure.
So those two things pretty much take up all my time. Well, sometimes I learn bass instead of guitar.
Teaching starts in two weeks. Still in denial. Must make up syllabus soon, though. Sigh. I need a to-do list don't I. Those things always freak me out. I have to-do items from 2007 still unchecked in iCal. They say that depression often means that one takes about four times as long to do anything as most un-depressed people. I buy it.
Oh. I saw Adam and thought it was a little lightweight but interesting. I did identify with Adam somewhat although he acted out more than I do although I have thrown tantrums as an adult but I usually try to do it when I am alone. I also didn't really buy that he got a job in CA, moved there by himself from NY, and was magically OK and Lived Happily Ever After even though he knew no one in CA, his dad had just died and his girlfriend would not come with him. The audience gets no indication of how it is he pulled himself together enough to do well in CA after barely being able to negotiate city streets at night in NY.
Details. Really I'm glad the movie was made because it seems to have affected Nan so deeply: she's been making calls left and right to try to find a place that will do an assessment for me. I'm a little scared now, because I think I have a lot invested in this. Why I feel like I need a recognizable name for my general weirdness is a subject for a long introspective post which I don't have time for as I must go get catfood but maybe I'll write about it a little more later. One thing I really feel like I need is some sort of tag to show my family that says "look here's what you missed and got completely wrong in almost every way." Whether or not I fit the definition of anything in particular they still got me completely wrong in almost every way. That really won't change but I think I want them to know more than they every will come to understand without there being something categorically recognizable about "my problem." As-is, I'm unfathomable. Sometimes the mystery is romantic, but sometimes it tends to obscure its own obstinate reality. If we don't have a name for it we don't have to take it seriously. Honestly I think my mom thinks I'm still just being rebellious and for no reason that she can understand.
It may be that this is just how it is and how it is going to be.
I've been feeling a bit depressed in any case. I think I'm lonely but I don't know how to fix that. Seriously, I make plans to see people from time to time and then months go by before I'm able to catch up with anyone again. I know that I could pester people more often but it also is stressful to be social. There are a handful of people I don't stress out at seeing, and I do see them, one by one, every few weeks, but that's not enough. Not seeing Nan twice a week anymore has made it that much clearer how much time I spend by myself.
And I'm always busy.
Ok I've just talked myself into the I'm not sure I want to be alive corner. Time to get catfood and think about something else.