ugh.

I'm feeling a new depth of unmotivated-ness. It's beginning to freak me out a little bit. It ain't good, to say the least.

It's more than an unwillingness to work. It's a lack of pride in what I'm doing and a lack of desire to do things well. That's scary.

Hopefully it's just a mood.

Hopefully.


And you know what? It's all within me. No outside forces are oppressing me or keeping me from doing what I want to do. Sure, it'd be "easier" if I had a little more money or something, but come on. It's not about that. It's about me and being lazy and not really doing anything and certainly not doing anything that's gonna get me anywhere...and spending my time feeling sorry for myself. It's so much easier to be depressed than to be not depressed these days. I must resist the urge to be lazy! Laziness is tantamount (catamount, Megs) to depression. No laziness. No depression.

Wait.

This means no laying in bed watching HBO DVDs for twenty-three hours of the day?

Fuck.


On a less self-indulgent note, Alan at work just told me: "I can smell your eggs. Whoa. What a fucked-up thing to say to a girl." He was talking about the hardboiled one I had in my dinner bag.

Oh, also! IN an effort to stave off boredom, depression, and at least nominally, poverty, Erin and I are opening an Etsy.com store to sell crafts and other shit. We want to cater specifically to hipsters....we plan to hoodwink them by doing things like putting a pog and some beads on a chain and calling it a necklace. Erin and I have both fallen for Etsy hook, line, and sinker.

Finally: I miss my friends a lot. I am getting falsely nostalgic for this time last year, even though I KNOW I was pretty unhappy back then. I was in the middle of Antigone, doing a terrible job, ruining relationships left and right, not sleeping enough, not eating enough, not getting my work done.... But the other night Karl texted me a picture of us from last Valentine's Day where we were wearing Craig's clothes because we'd all been caught in a terrible sleet/snow/rain storm on the way of of school. It was the only day I've ever tried to look nice for school by wearing a dress, and of course I paid for it dearly.

Anyway, in this picture, Karl's wearing a Third Eye Blind t-shirt and I'm wearing a sparkly, puffy Teenage Mutant Ninja turtles shirt and we're both grinning in a hangdog sort of way. Perhaps we know what's about to occur! (Kings, a LOT of broken glass, drunkenness by five o'clock, etc.) I think the feeling that I am so nostalgic for and sentimental about is the feeling that I was actually DOING something. I felt like we were doing something vital and important with BUSTAMFOP, and my revolutionary fervor was always at at least, oh, 89%. We were all going like gangbusters, whether for each other or against each other (I feel like it was mostly the latter).... and I'd like to feel like that again.

I thought the two parts of this post were unrelated, but obviously, they aren't.


The lesson I've learned today can best be summed up in the words of Brian Wilson:

Sleep a lot
Eat a lot
Brush 'em like crazy.
Run a lot
Do a lot
Never be lazy.

Is she having a laugh?!

Who knew doing nothing could be so tiring?

I worked from 2.30-midnight yesterday. I managed to do 1/10th of the stuff I wanted to, which is an improvement from this past week. Pathetic.

It took me about 45 minutes to get home-- the L train is going to be screwed up after midnight for, oh, about two months. Which is wonderful.

Came home, hunkered down to do some work, did a fair amount (this is a totally relative measurement), "rewarded" myself by watching a little bit of Extras....fell asleep and then woke with a start at 5 in the morning, groaning. I'm forever doing things like that. For some reason, I thought this was an appropriate time to go back to my desk and try to work-- obviously I could barely even see clearly and it was a futile attempt. Went back to sleep until ELEVEN. Decadence! Undeserved decadence!

On the bright side, I became the owner of a sleek silver umbrella last night. I can't reveal my sources, but it has something to do with Jack's Luxury Oyster Bar. I think it could act quite literally as a lightning rod in a thunderstorm-- important to remember, unless I'm feeling really dangerous that day.

Work today until midnight again, probably, and then party for Katy and her birthday.

One of these days....

Oh, and I sold a ticket to someone named Rathbone last night.

let it.

So, I set my alarm rather ambitiously for some time in the 9:30 range- who was I kidding?

Anyway, I had one of those wakeups from a movie at 8:15- my eyes snapped open, I sat bolt upright, and-- SNOW! It's snowing. It looks beautiful. I was mentally unprepared for this. (But I was sort of asking for it. I was reminiscing to myself yesterday about when there is snow on my birthday, and thinking 'Thanks, climate....leaves are still on trees for THIS b-day.' But maybe not.)

Of course the fact that it's snowing relieves me of all duties outside my apartment. I spent most of the day yesterday indoors, and it looks like today's heading there too. Station Agent and cross-stitch, anyone? Please.

Also! This is funny. These pictures came to my attention yesterday. Flashback! My favorite is the one of Slinky with Frankie's question attached-- what's he play? I also like the one of my arm with my tabs written on them....does it make me punk or just lazy that I never bothered actually learning the songs we played?

Elvis...get me through the cold days, buddy.

Edit: Speaking of botling awake, I forgot to relate the charming story of how I awoke at some weird time in the late night/early morning the other day to hear sexual SCREAMS coming from the apartment below me. They're notorious, but this time was beyond. In the words of Paul Simon: Remember- one man's ceiling is another man's floor. (And vice versa.)