1. awaking at 5:30 am, unprompted, not a noise, nothing. Just...awake. HOURS before I needed to be. Before I WANTED to be.
2. trying to blog since I was up so early, but my computer refusing to work. just...REFUSING.
3. throwing together an outfit that ended up looking completely 80s--all black and white. With stripes. It's alot nicer than it sounds.
4. my new dark dark brown hair. I've left the medium brown behind. I used at-home mousse colour. I have to say: I loved it. I feel that it makes my newly-minted 'off' eye less noticeable. Black eyeliner seems to help this effect too. My right eye. It's so....strange. If my face was asymmetrical before, now it's even weirder. And my eye gets so tired. And it hates the sunlight. When will this fix itself? (I was going to write "right itself" but that seemed punny).
5. muscle relaxants. How have I never known about these before?
6. calling a client back and having the 'on hold' music be "Love is a Battlefield" by Pat Benetar. Made my day. Sadly.
7. listening to the monotone voice of Louise Hay on her affirmations cd at work..all day long. At least it distracted me from the coughing. I focussed on her Health section. Loving your body. Treating it with kindness when it's not well (I tend to do the opposite. Yelling "HEAL" at your body does nothing to change things, I'm here to tell you).
8. condo board meeting. always entertaining.
9. my Sunday Night Syndrome being in full effect last night. I tossed and turned all night, despite sleep-tea. I dreamed weird things, about work, about my car, about not being able to get where I wanted to go. I woke up thirsty and hot, my sheets and duvet in a tumbled muddle.
9a. the pile of washed, semi-folded laundry on my couch. It's the size of a person. A small person.
10. I finished reading Chai Tea Sunday last night. As I mentioned, I experienced great sadness reading it. I also experienced profound "first-world" guilt, reading about the circumstances of 'disadvantaged' Kenyans. I also found myself borderline-disgusted with the protagonist's casual mentions of expensive dinners, diamond bracelets, and a worship-ful marriage, albeit one with a husband who f*cked off when his wife (the protagonist) needed him most. But it made me squirm, I'll give the book that. Our rich, empty, soul-less lives here in our land of getting everything-we-ever-wanted. And if I feel that way, someone who did not grow up with extra money or stacks of privileges, how do the over-advantaged feel? Do they have to sublimate their luck by pushing it down, denying the circumstances of their birth, to rid themselves of feeling dirty about money, guilty about privilege? Is this why they drive so aggressively in their large cars? Why they project a sickening sense of self-entitlement, that they somehow deserve it all, and how these same people are now my contemporaries? Or are they truly embarassed by their good fortune, access to excellent education, and chastised by the knowledge that on the other side of the world, people are waiting for it to rain so that they may eat?
I'm not leaving myself out of this continuum by the way. I'm in it too. Very deeply. I've got the mortgage, the job I depend on to pay it, the car, a wardrobe for the four seasons, and the rrsp's that our government tells me to buy.
11. New Yorker, week of May 21st. I read another piece about Kenya, about a young Kenyan marathoner who fell to his death off of a balcony during a fight with his wife. He was in the beginning stages of an amazing career that should have lasted years. Reading about the training, the landscape, the expectations of someone earning good money in an impoverished country shed some more light on this sad story. Imagine being given a talent like that, having the training to sharpen it, and then have your life just...... end. By misadventure.
12. The nightly news. Last night, at 6pm, I tuned in to City Tv to take in what they had to say about the weekend. I'm happy to report that it was pretty safe going in Toronto this weekend as their lead story was about a traditional 'tourist' trap in Toronto known as "Doors Open" where prominent buildings open their doors to the public for the weekend. City Tv decided to include themselves in this prominency and open the doors to their Yonge and Dundas news-room.
When I was young, these were the types of things we did as field-trips with the Scarborough Board of Education, so I feel no need to stand in an endless line-up of unwashed-masses and wait on the sidewalk on a beautiful day for hours on end for the chance that I may turn up on Tv. In truth, I didn't notice many people of my demographic participating in any of it. Most were people with children, and probably no access to private outdoor space, looking for a way to fill in an otherwise boring Sunday. If only they could turn to exercise. Watching it last night reminded me why the news enrages me (I also went a step further and read the Saturday Star too. I felt icky afterward)--it disgusts me how vapidly people spend their time. And I am not judging. I watch Real Housewives sometimes too. But I also engage my mind more often than not. Social research.
13. Instead, I lie in bed at night, prior to just falling asleep, and have a creative awakening. Nearly every night. My friend L. reminds me to scrawl these thoughts down. I must commit to this practice. Again, practice. Practice, practice, practice. That's all this post is today.
Nothing new to report...sorry.
Weather wayyy too hot--check.
Want to go running but can't--check.
Missing Mike--check. Check check check.