this is where we look for things
2.6.01 - 11:15:00
it's a good ben folds five song. mess, i mean. i like to listen to it on repeat when i don't feel so hot sometimes. there are a lot of clothes on my bed right now. piles and stacks of clean clothes. i think i should maybe write a little paper for my vic poetry class. i think i'm supposed to bring snacks tomorrow. i should grade those last three bios papers. i should a lot of things.
i just want the clothes to disappear. i know what i'm going to do. i'm going to dump them all in the basket and totally negate all the time i spent putting them in the stupid stacks. yeah, it's tough when stuff like this weighs heavy on your mind.
went for a run at memorial park this morning. it was nice. the trail's wider than the outer loop so you feel less threatened by other people. plus the trees are bigger. and you don't have to run down main street. so i might go there every once in a while. especially if the weather keeps doing the stuff it's doing.
i need to make better use of my tuesdays.
today in poetry writing i took out the stack of poems i'd critiqued over the week and set it down on the table in front of me. i looked down and went through my bag to get some gum, putting my empty folder back at the same time. then i sat up and started leafing through alan shapiro's new book, passing the time until class started. oh, and then it did. but see, i went to pick up my stack of poems, about three inches in front of me, and they're gone. no, like, they are not there. so i look down to see if they might have fallen on the floor. nope. i look through my bag. my binders. on the table again. on the floor again. behind my chair. everywhere. again and again and again and again. i can feel myself losing it, because these papers just vanished into thin air. i start convincing myself that it could happen. there isn't any other explanation, anyway. the woman next to me on my left has a stack of papers. she checks. no, those are the poems that she wrote for this week. i'm freaking out. i can't pay attention to what's going on. i can't really focus on anything for more than a minute without going back and looking somewhere that i've already looked. and looked and looked and looked. i'm on the verge of tears. or hitting someone. i can't talk. this goes on for an hour and a half. then we have a fifteen minute break which i spend looking for the lost papers. then about half an hour later, the chick on my left is going through her papers and oh, look, there are mine on the bottom of her stack after all. i think at that point i was supposed to feel relieved, but i just felt crazy. because i'd convinced myself (nearly) that it was possible that they might have just completely disappeared. and then i just wanted to be done with class because my head hurt. then i went to the lrc and used this program where you have this dialogue with the computer, so it really just looks like you're talking to yourself. it took me about ten minutes to initiate the speaking, but after that it was cool. and it's fun stuff. and i didn't get too many weird looks. pretty much everyone has headphones on in there anyway. besides, i usually love weird looks.
the clothes. i'm staring at them. they SO need to transport themselves into my closet and drawers. i so need to dump them in that basket. or i'll just sleep on top of them tonight and they'll get all wrinkled and i'll be too lazy to iron and instead i'll throw them all in the dryer again the get the wrinkles out and then i'd have to do this entire folding/sorting cycle again. i'll just make sure the stacks stay stacks in the basket. yes. a brilliant plan. i gotta do it soon. i gotta get up early tomorrow and finish these things i didn't finish. ugh.
sometimes you're just walking along and everything is fine one minute and then the next minute everything's just wrong. completely wrong. your hair, your face, your shoes, your clothes, the way you walk, your legs, your arms, everything, everything is wrong.
