11/18/06 - SAD stands for seasonal affective disorder

okay, here it comes.

the deluge of SAD-inspired mullings and musings... here I am, not knowing what to do with myself and then there's this fucking blog. It saved my life last year, and if it doesn't work this year, well fuck. Maybe I'll have to do something like grow a backbone or fall in love or get a life or something.

I've spent the day in my pajamas sitting around and thinking something along the lines of... tomorrow. Tomorrow I will pick myself up, clean my room, get my shit together, take a nice long hot bath and muster up the motivation to get out of my house and develop a social life.

It's funny how sometimes you look in the mirror and you feel good about the face staring back at you. It's funny, because what you see in the mirror doesn't just reflect back at you... I looked in the mirror the other day and I did not look like myself. Boston Nick tells me that I look completely different from one moment to the next. I like to think I'm a shape-shifter... but what's the difference between that and an amorphous blob who has no control over who she is from one moment to the next.

I look in the mirror and I look tired. It's strange, I didn't look so tired a week or two ago, and it's like I can't get enough sleep or rest, like I am biologically designed to hibernate through the winter but logic dictates that I must do otherwise.

I want to write inspirational things, but I don't feel particularly inspired. I want to worry that my loneliness stems from not being attractive enough, or nice enough or interesting enough, but the truth is, I just don't care. I wake up, and I could get out of bed and get all gussied up and go out there and 'get 'em', but I'd rather just sit in my pajamas and think about how the world is going about its business with or without me. I sit in my bed that I love, and look out the window that I love, and watch the sun move up..... and then down. That's what I did today. I looked out my wondow and watched the sun go up and down.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow I'll go out there and live my life. I've got it all set up, lunch date tomorrow, shopping in the afternoon (a good set of speakers for my iPod... yes....) and then night time date with Amy.

I'm afraid I'll wake up tomorrow in my flannel pajamas in my flannel bed with the down comforter, light up a cigarette, smoke it out the window and then decide I'd rather watch the sun go up and down again.

Carl says maybe now's the time for something drastic. Usually when I feel like I need to shake myself out of something I do something drastic like cut all my hair off, dye it and get a pet sugarglider. Maybe I'll do that. Or maybe I'll get a fucking bunny.

But last night I was looking in the mirror with scissors inches from my dreads and I felt like something needed to change, and maybe it wasn't my hair. Maybe it was this habit I have... of whatever it is. Cutting my hair wasn't going to change anything.

My boss left for Paris today, and I have the week off. I'm going to try and take advantage of this free time (still getting paid of course... god i love being on salary) to get my shit together. Clean up my room, do my laundry, fix my budget, do some shopping and develop a social life. Boston Nick's been great at trying to get my out of the house, if it weren't for him I probably would never leave. But Initiative is the word of the week.

I've got to take initiative. And it starts with being a little less vague about what 'initiative' means.

I'll stop there. Gotta save a few lines for future SAD-inspired ramblings.

love love