I guess it's highly unlikely that anyone reading this doesn't already know that I am moving back to my hometown in Florida on Tuesday, but I figured I should mention it just in case. Maybe I've recently acquired some new fans. Maybe I live in Fantasyland.
Speaking of living in Fantasyland.... My usual method for coping with stress is to simply refuse to acknowledge whatever it is that's freaking me out until it magically goes away on its own. This works more often than you'd think. This time, though, it's essentially impossible, because I'm freaked out over something that I decided to do, and which I am actively participating in right now. I mean, if I decided to ignore the fact that I'm moving until it went away, then I wouldn't have moved at all. So instead, I've thrown myself into some sort of weird fugue-like state by sequestering myself in my apartment, sleeping at odd hours (and hardly at all), and taking long breaks from packing during which I: a) obsessively check my e-mail, myspace account, and a handful of selected blogs, looking for updates, and: b) spend inordinately long stretches of time in the lonely hours of the morning playing cutesy puzzle-type computer games which were obviously intended for those in the 10-12 year age range. Also, at one point yesterday morning I found myself captivated by this mesmerizing e-card (thanks a lot, Jesse); only when I finally tore my eyeballs from the screen to look at the clock did I realize that there was a problem: I'd been watching it over and over and over for a full thirty-five minutes. No shit. I don't know if it's the creepy hypnotic voice repeating "I LIIIKE YOU" over and over or the pulsing tropical dance rhythm, or what, but - look, I'm watching it again right now - I think this card was designed to lure the weak-minded (like myself) into its expectation-free jungle utopia, and keep us there indefinitely. "No more, no less." I dig it.
Speaking of living in Fantasyland.... My usual method for coping with stress is to simply refuse to acknowledge whatever it is that's freaking me out until it magically goes away on its own. This works more often than you'd think. This time, though, it's essentially impossible, because I'm freaked out over something that I decided to do, and which I am actively participating in right now. I mean, if I decided to ignore the fact that I'm moving until it went away, then I wouldn't have moved at all. So instead, I've thrown myself into some sort of weird fugue-like state by sequestering myself in my apartment, sleeping at odd hours (and hardly at all), and taking long breaks from packing during which I: a) obsessively check my e-mail, myspace account, and a handful of selected blogs, looking for updates, and: b) spend inordinately long stretches of time in the lonely hours of the morning playing cutesy puzzle-type computer games which were obviously intended for those in the 10-12 year age range. Also, at one point yesterday morning I found myself captivated by this mesmerizing e-card (thanks a lot, Jesse); only when I finally tore my eyeballs from the screen to look at the clock did I realize that there was a problem: I'd been watching it over and over and over for a full thirty-five minutes. No shit. I don't know if it's the creepy hypnotic voice repeating "I LIIIKE YOU" over and over or the pulsing tropical dance rhythm, or what, but - look, I'm watching it again right now - I think this card was designed to lure the weak-minded (like myself) into its expectation-free jungle utopia, and keep us there indefinitely. "No more, no less." I dig it.
My conscience is nagging me to finish packing, already, so I can get down to the business of enjoying my last few days in New York, but I'm finding it difficult for reasons I can't quite articulate. Oh, well. The jig is up tomorrow anyway; N.Eck has some farewell fun lined up, and I know I'm bound to have a good time whether my emotionally crippled inner asshole likes it or not. Then Monday night I say "goodbye for now" to my dynamite old pals PK, Jenny, Chuck, and The Mac.
Okay, back to packing, cleaning, and the real world.
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