The Right thing at the Right time

I had terrible dreams last night, dreams that were like bad versions of past things and people, dreams that woke me up every hour on the hour only to let me fall back asleep to a different version of the same uncomfortable feeling. And I ended up on the wrong side of the bed even when waking up with the arms of the one I love wrapped around me.

How unfair. How unfair that one sleepless night of mental insanity can color your entire day, can make you feel like something bigger and more potent than yourself is conspiring to darken your life in some way. How unfair it is when your eyes tear up on their own accord, leaving you to wonder what you could possibly have to cry about?

Three hours later I still felt cloudy and slightly confused, waiting for the 1 train at Christopher Street to whisk me away to the day's next task. And then, from the opposite platform- the strains of Hallelujah. A song that's been sung by so many, so many amazing musicians, and still, to me, sounds like salvation when sung by a nameless busker. A song that instantly saddens me and calms me in such a magical way that I cannot explain it's hold over me or what it means or why I am drawn so to it's sorrowful strains. I watched from across 3 sets of electrified tracks and wished that I could throw far enough for whatever money I had in my wallet to reach his guitar case. And I watched as almost EVERY SINGLE PERSON who walked by on that side of the station, at least every other, threw money into that case. In the four years I've lived here (and all the previous years, when I think I probably noticed much more than I do now), I have seen countless subway and street musicians peddling their talent. And I have never seen one so well-received by the usual foot traffic. It was like this siren song, like this grace, that was having an affect on nearly everyone that took their headphones out of their ears long enough to listen.

A 2 train passed, fast, with a rumble and whoosh and then it was gone, and the guy was only finishing up the bridge. I saw the oncoming 1 train waiting down the tracks, lights blazing, but motionless- like it was giving us the end of the song.

And then, just after the last word, 1 trains from both directions flew in the station and parted the guitar chords that still hung in the air. And I felt a little bit less alone.

Today's List(s)

Things I Hate:
-Allergies. Something I haven't had in four years. What I thought was a benefit of living in a city.
-Cold/rainy days. Nothing new here. Except that it is unfair that this happen in conjunction with allergies.
-Boys with hipster hair which falls in front of eyeballs obscuring view on purpose. Girly.

Things I Love:
-Ham. Delicious.
-Upcoming vacations. Something to dream about.
-New hair. Something fun to look at in the mirror. Instant self-esteem.

Things I can't decide about:
-Zombie movies. Cool, scary, or just uncomfortable? Sometimes all three.
-The E! network. On one hand, it has The Soup and Chelsea Lately. On the other hand, it also has annoyingly plastic surgeried host(esses) and non-stop coverage of Miley Cyrus.

Things I should add to the Hate list:
-Miley Cyrus. No explanation necessary.

Secretly I wish I was Romanian?

I think I assume a foreign persona when emailing people about apartments, and I have no idea why. Because all the listing are obviously from foreign brokers or landlords and I want to fit in? Because I think I sound more refined when I use the word "mobile" instead of "cell"? Because I want them to believe that I am bilingual and therefore more worthy of an apartment? Because I am reading "You Shall Know Our Velocity" and one of the characters does this when he travels?

Huh?

Leavings

I'm going to Jamaica in 16 days!

And I'm (if all goes as planned) moving in 55 days!

And I am so ready for both.

Even if I hadn't had a huge fight with my landlord (I do not even want to go into how stupid this fight was) and even if I hadn't missed my previously scheduled vacation (so not revisiting this), I would be desperately needing both to happen as soon as possible. I can do 16 days. 55? I hope so. Because I have been scoping out matching dishes since February, I am anxious to clean my carpets, my waffle maker patiently awaits a coveted spot on a new countertop, and of course I really miss my sister, aka new roommate. The countdown has officially begun.

There seems to be so much to do before I go, but it's too early to start doing any of it. This is going to be so worth it, right? Moving scares me, and money scares me (or rather spending it in large amounts), and I have to do both of these things at once very soon. Everything seems so daunting right now... I wish I could sleep through the next few weeks and wake up and drink a pot of coffee and just get it over with.

I can make it through the next two weeks. I can do that, and I can go lay on a beach and get drunk on local rum and fruity concoctions with my ginger boyfriend, and then I can come back and figure some crap out.

It is time to get back in "what the hell should I do with my life" mode and get my act together.
Rev up that coffeemate, San- we're gonna do this shit.

My Faith in God and New York City has been Restored

I just went for a run to Astoria Park and I got at least 3 grins, a thumbs up, and a wave, and on the way back I ran into Carrie on her way to the park too. And suddenly I feel like myself again. Which is kind of amazing, since I haven't felt like myself in at least two months- and had I known it only takes short-sleeve weather and a quick conversation on the sidewalk, I would have stayed in hibernation until today and saved everyone the trouble of trying to figure out what's been wrong with me.

I think I must have had the worst case of Seasonal Affective Disorder ever, which, hello, duh. Every year since I can remember I have been depressed at some point during the winter, for little or no particular reason, even when I lived in NC, but I guess it just hasn't made me feel like a completely crazy person this long until now. And during school at least I had a reasons to be depressed and stressed and crazy-acting. But now, not so much... I am actually a very lucky person and it is high time I quit wanting to cry over anything that slightly bothers me, like traffic and mean people at the post office. Because that is just dumb.

Today it was finally beautiful weather on my day off, and suddenly, my faith in God and New York City has been restored.

So, what the hell?

Yesterday I saw a big macho looking man crying on the subway. He seemed to also be halfheartedly mouthing the words to whatever was being piped through his headphones. He was wearing a leather jacket and I thought maybe he was Irish- he was cool in that way that Bono would be if he were a little taller and not so full of himself. If he had been italian looking and wearing gold chains and had gel in his hair I would probably think it was funny. But it wasn't funny, it was quiet and sad and it made me sad. And it made me think of all the people I've seen cry on the subway, and all the people that must cry on the subway, and all the times I've cried on the subway because I was either drunk or just couldn't take it anymore, or both. And I kept wondering what he was crying about: a woman, his mother's sickness, his life? A job lost? A love lost? A dream lost? And something in me wanted to know- to know what allows a grown man to sit, red-eyed and purse-lipped, among a bunch of strangers, and not care who's staring? And also I wanted to say that it's ok, I know it sucks to be this miserable in public, it happens to me all the time. Probably this is some sad sort of scheidenfrued, because I felt a little less bad about all the things that make me want to cry.

When did I become miserable? On a 60 degree day, no less? Maybe not so much miserable, as generally dissatisfied with my life. Thinking about almost anything for more than 3 minutes fills me with a sense of dread lately, and I'm not sure why. I'm antsy and I think about moving somewhere warmer and less expensive and that fills me with dread too, because I can't imagine living anywhere but here, even though here (New York City) is different and and sadder and emptier than it was before. I feel the need to "put things in order" ALL THE TIME even though I haven't the slightest clue what things need to be put in order, or how to go about doing this.

I'm hoping to chalk this all up to the bitter winter that is hopefully almost over, because it's been a particularly crap winter this year. So far 2009 has kind of been particularly crap. But when I have a brief moment of clarity, a fleeting moment in which my brain works logically, I know that there is nothing miserable about my life; on the contrary, I have all the things I've ever needed and most of what I ever wanted. I am a happy person. I was meant to be a happy person. So, what the hell?

Any ideas on how to make my brain work in a logical fashion more often are gladly welcomed.

A Waste of Life-time

At work, I make lists of all the things I have to do each day and then I cross these tasks off in different colors. It is very enjoyable and makes me feel quite productive to see list after list, red-lined and finished. Even really inane things make these lists, because I WILL get chewed out if I don't verify something about license renewal for the third time or grab my boss a small coffee with milk on my way back from the post office. It recently occurred to me that if I had theses kind of lists for what I do in my personal time, they would be even dumber. And maybe, just maybe, if I start making lists of all the stupid things I do with my precious spare time, I will actually realize how much time I'm wasting and will be motivated to become a more productive person. We'll start with this:


-play with the Clipiola Italian paperclips from my office and think of ways I can use them at home, simply because they are spiral and look cool

-look at wedding and baby pictures of people I disliked in high school but am still, for some unknown reason, friends with on Facebook

-look at pictures of myself on Facebook to make sure I'm not tagged in anything really weird or terrible (although even if I was, I'm sure I'd probably leave it up anyways). simultaneously verify that there are at least a couple pictures in the first page view in which my hair looks nice and I don't look fat, and in which I appear to be happy

-search for on-sale flat screen TVs online for my bedroom, because even though I spent 600 bucks on a nice 32" only a few months ago, I am too lazy (and cold) to go to the living room and watch it

-re-read my journal, which is a bad idea because it gets me nowhere, wastes my time, and makes me extremely sentimental and/or emotional, neither of which is useful at this point in my life

-search craigslist for a new, cheaper apartment and get depressed about how much I pay in rent, this depression turns to anxiety when I think about how much I pay on top of rent for health insurance and utilities, anxiety turns back to depression when I realize that the only way I can fix this is to move out of New York

-refresh weather.com to see if the temperature has changed since I started wasting time on my computer. get angry about the crap weather that inevitably returns every time I have a day off

More to come later, when I am wasting my time in ways other than writing on this blog. Post office time now. List making time later. Hoping for some caffeine in between.