2.4.03. 11pm.
i had time.
the problem today, i think, is that my bubble has been easily burstable.
work today was not bad. rather relaxed, not difficult, no surprises. then the commute home there was traffic - rather an inordinate ammount of traffic here in venice's sister city (though no boat traffic; i should have taken a gondola home), and i got home all exhausted and pissy. so i played guitar for a little, and took a little nap, and was feeling calmer, and then there were bangs in the kitchen, and i went down and there were boxes everywhere and a new computer being set up and blodgett making grilled cheese and it was just too much. and cooking didn't help much either. so after dinner i made brownies, and took them to people, and that helped a bit, and then i wandered around campus and into and out of buildings, and that made me feel better. and i came home, and i'm still doing okay. and then work calls, and says hey, can i commute to boston twice tomorrow? and now i'm all poopy again.
what's up? i mean, this is not a funk i'm worried about, considering it's lasted a whole great big seven hours, but still.
tonight i had the thought that eating is a very violent act. all that chewing and crushing and chomping and tearing and cutting. and then the food gets to your stomach, and the real action begins. cooking, too, is pretty aggressive. curious that both should be so calming.
i don't know. what i want, i think, is to not feel so much like i'm drifting. to have a few things to anchor to, and let stuff swirl around; not have the swirling be all there is.
the outdoors is very pretty at night, have you noticed?
i walked through sayles hall, and got a free organ concert all for me. it was nice. i should walk around at night more often.
i think that's it. blah. bring on peppiness!