A Few Things I Cannot Stop Thinking About

There's this Catholic high school near where I live, and whenever I drive by it at night, the red digital scoreboard is lit up. No other lights are on, and it glows eerily by itself. I kind of feel like Satan is having an invisible football game out there.

I have thought so much about the Titanic recently, more than ever before in my life. When I come home from work, I'm all hot and out of breath from riding my bike against the wind, so I go straight for the freezer and pick some solitary ice cubes out of the tray. They stick pretty good, so I get a long time to think about how the Titanic sank because too many ice cube tray-like compartments got ripped open. I think about this every single time I see an ice cube tray. So basically I get a nice two-minute-long Titanic reverie every day after work.

I watched Persepolis tonight, and now I feel guilty about feeling vaguely aimless in my life since I didn't have to flee my war-torn country with no parents to guide me. I have no excuse!

Pools of Sorrow, Waves of Joy

Alright, creepy guys in Missouri parks aside, I don't think I was meant to eat that catfish on Thursday.

I awoke this morning to terrible nausea and an overall sense of Not Wanting to Move. Each step I took, even each shift in weight, made it clearer and clearer to me that I should not be standing, or even awake, for that matter. I promptly called in to work and returned to bed, entering an uncomfortable, as well as guilt-inducing, repose from which I would not stir for another four hours.

As much as I profess not to like the whole idea of Working, the unpleasant fact that you are expected to be there, day in, day out, whether it's a nice day out or not, sick days are far, far worse. You not only feel bad because your body is revolting against you somehow, but you also feel bad because you are in a way throwing a wrench into your office's plans for the day. Even if you improve as the day goes on, you still have the soul-crushing guilt weighing on you, making it impossible to enjoy the free time you have unintentionally gained.

By three o'clock, I felt lively enough, and once dinner-time came, I was persuaded to a birthday dinner for a friend at the local Krishna place and vegetarian restaurant. We sat in the courtyard, eating buffet food and listening to the guitar man alternating between the Beatles (late-ish ones, Across the Universe and Mother Nature's Son, etc) and James Taylor. The evening could not have been more perfect.

Except that my coworker was there for the party and certainly must think now that I was faking sick to elongate my weekend.

Friday, Friday

I'm not really sure what goes on in my office when I'm home for the evening. It must be pretty exciting, though. My chair is always really staticky, and shocks me every single time I sit down or stand up or shift my weight. The janitors have rolly-chair races, maybe? And there was a footprint on my desk next to the keyboard this morning. I don't even know what that means.

On an unrelated note, why oh why did I order catfish? Really? Catfish, at a restaurant where I could have eaten a nice big salad, or a delicious steak, or even a hamburger? Who orders catfish, anyway? I've now realized my folly, and I see that the only way to eat catfish is when there is no menu to choose from.

I watched a movie tonight! And I started reading a book the night before! They both were (are) amazing! I'm glad to have taken the recommendation of both August Rush and Life of Pi. Although the part about the weak and starving guinea pigs was a little bit sad.

I'm Not Sure How I Feel About This

Alright, so first, I follow this link from Dooce. It is very thought-provoking and a little sad and makes me feel weepy and wanting to love my life more.

Immediately afterward I get Rick Rolled. By the Muppets. All that emotion that had welled up inside me, suddenly transformed into something else. Something that I can't quite explain or understand.

Huh.