l i l e p h y t e

November 15th, 10:07 | delayed reaction

It's meltdown season. (And all you pedants who are about to point out that, hey, winter's on the horizon, what's all this about melting? Can just shut up and look at the sky today. Look at it and tell me that's not a meltdown.)

I woke up shortly before 6 today because there was a freezing gale wailing past my window. I know it's a good thing I couldn't feel the building shake (what with being high up in the floors and all) but I totally expected it to. It was almost disappointing when it didn't. And that whistling, screaming rush didn't stop for almost an hour. It was eerie and cold, and led to fitful half-sleep, which I kept waking from, wrenched and heartsick from disappointment.

I'm wearing the hoodie I bought off ThinkGeek (does that make me an authentic nerd, now that I'm wearing clothes I bought myself off the internet? although really, I've been buying myself chapstick and other makeup-y-ness online for months now, so...) and I caught myself in the mirror as I was doing laundry (what? like you don't do your laundry at 9am on a Tuesday?) and I looked... the way I remember looking for the first time since I lived in res. Girl, messy hair, a little tired-looking, barefoot, jeans, oversized hoodie, hands full, thinking about something else. It's a mental image I've kept of myself (mostly gleaned from glimpses of reflections in the residence windows at 4am) and for some reason never updated. ('Cause, you know, these days my attire is way classier. *cough* I actually couldn't tell you why I looked different.) I don't know why I always go for the huge, oversized clothing at times like this, but I do. It's a little like Weezer's Blue Album; it's just familiar and comfortable and safe. I predict that in the next week, I will also bust out The Green Sweater, and the first Econoline Crush cd, along with some Trent I haven't listened to since I graduated.

So, yes. I'm sitting huddled up in a giant hoodie for the first time in... well, since back when Jiyuu and I were on much better terms, super-close, and I had pillaging rights to his closet, so I promptly stole his Dieselboy hoodie. My head's heavy and filled with all kinds of mess that I know better than to vocalize until it's for-real sifted (stupid emotional-rationale lag; *kick*) but I don't have a good feeling about any of it. Not anymore.

It started off poorly, a morning of dreary skies (I ushered all my plants into the bathroom with the super-bright lights to let them hang out for awhile; these skies are so bleak), and panic and despondency, so I did something I haven't done in weeks. I danced. (Yeah, uh, anyone in the area who was woken up around 7 by the sound of jingling and kind of rhythmic tssh!-tssh! noises, or arabic hip-hop? Yeah, sorry about that.) It felt great (see? who says I don't know about the endorphin thing?) until about an hour later when everything came crashing down on me anyway.

I'm starving, but too tired to eat, it's half past ten and I've cleaned my room, done my laundry, cleaned the kitchen and set straight all the papers that have been piling up for a month. If I weren't so caught up in myself, I could probably finish my novel today.

Even with my Schedule Of Lunacy, though, at some point I'm going to run out of chores to keep myself busy with, and there's only so much you can throw at your friends with the plea to help stop you from doing something stupid.

So I'll sit here and think about signing myself up for those baking classes in January with my mom, or rock-climbing, or bellydancing, or..., and in the meantime, everything will just keep slipping, unnoticed without me staring at it, slipping, slipping away, into the grey, grey Bleak that woke me up in the first place.

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