February 09, 2004

11:48 p.m.

Weeny Loop

Got the scoop from Rose about her Lasek surgery, which took turns grossing me out and making me want to do it very soon. I don't have any down time until June anyway, so I'll continue mulling it over. The consult is free. She's now testing at 20/30.

Here is my latest bugaboo: people who put eights, threes and esses on signs, upside down. So that, in the case of an eight, the big loop is on the top, and the weeny loop is on the bottom. I never knew why this bothered me until I took set design as an acting major in college. The development of architecture - building shapes, door shapes, placement of windows - has much to do with our favor for the human form. We're more or less symmetrical, we have a roundish head on a shouldered, upright form. When we see an upside down eight, with the big loop on top, it looks mongoloid. It looks wrong. It looks like the person who put it up wasn't paying attention. This peeves me.

But then, that's just me; I also like to have all the bills in my wallet facing the same way.

I do not iron my underwear, however.

Lately I don't even unpack my underwear from the suitcase I just used, unless it's dirty. Then it goes in the laundry basket. Clean underwear and other clothes remain in the suitcase, and I simply continue to operate out of that until it's empty and it's time to put it away...

...or repack it for the next trip. That's just lazy.

Yes, the apartment has gotten more cluttered in the last month. Now tax related things, piles of receipts, are on the living room floor - and I never put anything in the living room. It's the last bastion of neatness. But if I don't leave them out, I won't do them.

I've gotten lazy. I think it's a sign of malaise, along with suddenly HAVING TO HAVE ice cream, sometimes twice in a day. I must clean up for Friday. It's almost like I don't want it to come. I no longer know how I feel about Will visiting me. I feel very guarded, against... what I feel. I think, what's the point of getting together? When it's so important to me that it lead to something? If I just let it be, just had a pleasant time, would I be bored, dissatisfied, and sad? Nostalgic for what never was, owing to all that went before? I knew beyond a doubt, all through that depression, that no passion would be enough any more if it weren't like this. We could have cracked open the earth's crust. Now, with all that has changed, I suspect I couldn't go back if I had the chance - because even though it hasn't been seven years, enough of my cells have been replaced, and certainly enough neural pathways, to hide the way. I can't go back, I can only own what I am, strong and a little sad. It wouldn't be the same now, maybe it would be just motions. I was on fire then. Does the door open only once?

(I remember a moment, when we were kissing, this would be maybe a year and a half ago, he said, "It feels good to just stop fighting it." Where did that go?)

Would he still like to just stop fighting it?

Am I the only one fighting now?

My head is too big and too full of fears, cares and koans. It's too heavy sitting on the weeny loop of me.