krisis

A Blank Slate puts some perspective spin on recent feelings i’ve had. Whether that changed my mind any, i’m not sure, but it’s quite true for me (right down to the age).

we'll see how brave you are
we'll see how fast you'll be running
we'll see how brave you are
we'll see

This morning, when awoken at 7am, i found my brain working but my body totally drained. This certainly didn’t come as a surprise, since i went to sleep past 4am last night. As is often the case in that realm of half-sleep i was left a wandering mess of synapses trying to get their story straight while i tried to find the will to get up. Instead i found myself writing sardonic blog updates about not wanting to get out of bed and how awful the impending move of the couch would be, all in my head. I very much need a brainwave to blog converter. Any suggestions would be appreciated.

Smoke hangs hazily in the air and i think i’m going to listen to “Tear in Your Hand” after this cd is over. Matt apparently found success with his pizza. Earlier i faced the challenge of putting sheets on the lower half of our bunk beds (yes, bunk beds) and had to wrestle the matress out into the middle of the room before i found success. However, while trying to get the prepared bed back into its place in the wooden frame i managed to totally miss the frame and squeeze the mattress through to the floor. While initially rather annoyed at this development, i soon came to realize that it afforded me nearly a foot of head room and a nice alcove for playing guitar. Actually, the wooden bunk beds remind me of Gina’s old room, where the top bunk was filled with an array of stuffed animals or clothes. I’ve got Matt… same difference? :)

Continuing our chillin’, now to a wisely picked Under the Pink. You’ve gotta love two guys sitting in an apartment listing to UtP. Please, love us! The water filter got finally figured out, but Matt now is doing his best to start a “cheese fire” in the oven with his tasty pizza. I am, oddly, neither tired nor hungry. I’m obviously just running on fumes. I moved my desk across the room so that i don’t have to trail a bundle of wires in front of our door when i connect to the internet. Everything is rather calm, other than Matt’s opening of windows so that his newly made fire doesn’t set off our smoke alarm. I’m idly playing accompaniment to the Tori cd (the only one i don’t have a piano book for) and enjoying the still air. I think i like it here.

The electric company tried to fuck us over earlier by turning off our electricity while checking our meter (yeah, makes lots of sense, doesn’t it), but i had it turned back on about twenty minutes later after summoning up all of the bitch that i hold within and focusing at the poor ’emergency’ receptionist at the power company. He was so apologetic at the end of the call that i actually felt a bit bad. Still, the power went back on in under a half hour, so i’m effective.