03/30/01
You're a smart person. Obviously. I mean, you found your way here, right? So you know the two schools of thoughts, the ones about what makes you what you are. There is the thought that we are divine creates, full of mystery, unexplainable, illogical. That we act in indecipherable codes, sometimes against our better interests. We are woven from a fabric of mysticism, yet we're fallible. Then there's the other school, the one that says that we are veins and vessels, we are electric reactions. Skin, blood and bone. Neurons and brain tissue and chemical reaction. We react to stimuli, evolve from genetics, create a reality from the patchwork of DNA and sensation. I'm been bipolar this week. I've had warm feelings, good laughs, a sense of well-being. But also, this week I've felt:
terrified fulfilled happy depressed mournful relieved fed-up angry frustrated resigned incapacitated by detachment proud profoundly unhappy amused and giddy burdened trapped blessed
And it's not enough to feel these things, because I have no idea where those sensations are all coming from. It can't all be outside stimuli. My life is not a chaotic mess right now. Quite the contrary: Things are the same as they ever were. Even David Byrne would agree. So, why the list? Is it chemical? Is it an imbalance? Am I inflicting these emotions on the people around me based on a quirk in my chemistry? I started thinking about some of the things I ate this week. Maybe it's my diet:
Thundercloud veggie burger sub and Sun Chips Vermicelli noodles with crispy chicken and peanut sauce from Fresh Planet An unsatisfying Healthy Choice teriyaki chicken meal Some frozen nuggets (thawed and cooked) and fajita-spiced fries Potato, salad (twice) Lots of water A few sodas Power Bar (peanut butter flavored, yum.) A bowl of great Almond Delight cereal until I looked down and realized that those stupid tiny Austin sugar ants had gotten into the cereal box and then I look down while I'm munching a mouthful of it and I see a bunch of dead ants in the bowl A Frisco burger from Jack in the Box Several baked tortillas with melted Kraft Singles
Or maybe it's something someone said and I'm just reacting to it. These are some of the things said to me by various people this week:
"You're not old. You just need some sleep." "Go play with your toys, asshole." "I'm going to wait it out, see what happens in a few months. I still really love him" "I have been disappointed in your staff's behavior regarding this incident." "What a guy!" "It's been a pretty rough week, yeah." "Appropriate response, Omar." "Let's just drop it now, okay? Can we do that?" "Why, exactly, are you starving your cat?" "Sadly, I and 20 of my colleagues have been laid off, effective today."
I'm looking at that list, and I'm not sure how to deal with all that. Each of those has a story and a person and a fight or a funny e-mail or a conversation behind it. And it's a lot. A lot to digest. Sometimes too much. Sometimes I wonder if I'm eating right, if all the chemical agents are where they're supposed to be. I'm not sure if I'm supposed to be happy that life has ebbs and flows, peaks and valleys. That it's not all monotony and smooth sailing. But it's a lot. I'll say it again. It can't be all chemical, right?
Lovely. I promise I'll be funnier on Monday.
Cosa's Hunger Strike to End Third-World DebtDAYS 7 and 8
I can't find Cosa. I've been looking all over the house for her, and she's nowhere to be found. I thought at first she might be hiding or upset about something. But I'm starting to think that she's saving her energy and taking time to herself to contemplate the grueling next few weeks. She's mentally preparing herself for her noble continuing effort. There
was a coupon in the newspaper for $1.00 off the cat food I usually buy
for Cosa. I thought about clipping it, but then I figured I wouldn't
need to buy any for at least a few more weeks, so I just threw it away.
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
Clip
Art Corner "Houston: Do you think I could historically pee in that crater like we discussed? Over." |
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|