I watched the documentary about Charles and Ray Eames on Netflix.
I didn't do the dishes.
I got a full night's sleep.
I ate granola for breakfast.
I read about Anne Hathaway and Sheila Heti on Wikipedia.
I did the dishes.
I balanced my checkbook and paid my credit card.
I ate apple pie.
I walked to the restaurant and checked my schedule on the way to the office.
I took a trip to Probate Court.
I sorted the weekend's mail.
I typed a memorandum.
I went back to Probate Court.
I chatted with Jeff for a while.
I entered the revisions for a purchase agreement.
I walked home and talked to Ali on the phone.
I ate a turkey and gravy sandwich.
I read about the Icelandic economy and its recovery.
I looked at apartments on Craigslist using the handy new map feature.
I didn't go to yoga.
I read about the future of diaries/journaling.
I read about Sherlock Holmes enthusiasts in Switzerland.
I read about Scientology.
I read about the classical music industry.
I read a lot of things today.
I downloaded Skype so my brother could send me music.
What about you?
Old Story, Getting Older All the Time
One of my best friends is married. Lots of people are on their last year of grad school, or done already. On their second or third post-college experiences. They have jobs. Some of them have jobs that they want, or jobs that might get them the jobs that they want. Others, like me, have the jobs that they have. I have two jobs. I recently dropped one and picked up a better one; I keep reminding myself that this is proof that I am in control of my life. But I do not have a plan. I do not have an inkling of a plan. There were reasons I chose the things I did. I picked a school, then I picked some classes, then I picked a major, and within four years, I brought it all to an officially successful end. But somewhere between freshman orientation and college graduation, the dots stopped connecting.
Welcome to November
(A: The darkening of days that means the holidays approach, whatever produce is still showing up at the farmers' market, being a scapegoat for your actually un-seasonal unhappiness.)
I do savor the moments like that one, heading home in the afternoon, looking up after I cross the busy street and realizing everything is gold. I also feel the cold and dark threatening to shorten my days, which already feel short from work and inaction and being too into being asleep when I was previously asleep.
I think that the plan is not to try to paint a beautiful life on this blog, not right now. I think my boyfriend and maybe most people, if they ever hear it, are sick of the November shtick. But here in this blog, let's all agree (that's me, agreeing with me) that November can be really hard. But so can October. So can September, and August, and July. I've been taking baby steps, and they don't really go anywhere, but I'm going to try harder to get on track. November, life kind of sucks, but I'm also not giving in.
So, a plan for Friday.
Alarm goes off, leap from the bed and into the steamy hot shower.
Get dressed. Eat. Spend a quiet, calm, thoughtful morning with myself. Pack bag. Eat lunch. Go to work (don't be late). Eat dinner. Go to work. Go to bed.
A plan for Thursday 11:59pm: go to bed!
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