I don't like it when my blog becomes a slew of complaint-filled posts, rather than an outlet for my positive thoughts, but I just feel more apt to write when I'm bothered by something.
I haven't been sleeping. My brain won't shut off. I dream of traffic and driving exactly as I drive here (which in a way is remarkable, because I feel like I'm actually on the road taking the turns exactly as they are in reality). I dream of people talking and telling others unimportant information. Basically my head is filled with useless chatter and stress-filled situations. I haven't been hitting the vivid-whacked-out-dream REM that I desperately need. People tell me I look tired. –"Gee, thanks."– The shower is adjacent to my bed, separated by a thin wall, so even on my days off I can't sleep in because the cacophony of gargling pipes and falling shampoo bottles rouses me from my shitty partial-slumber.
September is so weird. This whole year has been weird, actually. One day I feel like everything is falling into place, and the next is a slap in the face. In February I'd gone into Chinatown and spoken with a Chinese woman in a tiny t-shirt shop. I asked her what the year of the dragon was supposed to bring. She said just that, "It will go up and down. Very, very good, followed by very bad." She made a sinus-wave movement with her hand. Now, perhaps I'm projecting her prediction onto this year's outcome, but all the people who I've spoken about this feel the same way. That being said, I still feel that September is the weirdest month of all. I just feel tired, restless, claustrophobic, like I'm in survival mode and can't accomplish anything. It's an exhausting feeling.
Also... that stupid, stupid gray and white cat sets of my car alarm every night. Neighbor, be warned: I am on the verge of buying a hunting rifle and gettin' me some supper... No, not really. But I feel like one of those really grumpy grandpa neighbors that always yells "SCRAM, you filthy son of a bitch." My abhorrence of cats is a story for another time.
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