i'm trying, really trying not to fuck myself in the ass

Madame Filth's picture

i struggle with this every winter. i have nothing to look forward to, nowhere to go that isn't cold and gray and more of a pain in the ass than it's worth... so i spend too much time indoors, not seeing people, working from home really blows sometimes. and the irony is, i get so much LESS work done this time of year, or whenever i feel like this, when it seems so obvious that the solution to my brain freeze/cabin fever is to stimulate myself more with work, among other things.

i pine for sweet baked treats. i look at pictures of pot pies, cupcakes, biscuits and spend every available brain cell on how i could make what's pictured, better. then i talk myself out of it because i gave up that crap and i feel so much better, really i do.... and i don't want to go back to that, really i don't....

i avoid all of my commitments by reading instead. sitting in my room, reading. sitting in the living room after everyone else is asleep, reading. till 2 or 3 am, reading dumb ass blockbuster bestseller bullshit because my brain can't handle real stimulation. just brain candy to avoid thinking about .... anything really.

i'm amazed that i haven't been fired from any of my gigs yet, i feel so lazy, i'm doing a fraction of what i should be doing, and i don't even set my own bars particularly high.

inside of two weeks, the only two independent book stores around, possibly in the whole state, shut down. one in particular was just .... oh it was just what everyone needs, a place to go see art, hear music, staged radio plays, readings, signings, armwrestling competitions.... it was always there, with perfect books on the shelves, used and new, all perfectly selected, a perfect mix of high art literature and pulp lowbrow fun shit, cool knicknacks and all... the owner is stoked to move on and doesn't seem to want to hear anyone crying about it. and the bar in town... the one that fought the redevelopment and won where others lost and were bought out by the conglomerate, a tiny, one story tudor pub surrounded on three sides by highrises, abruptly closed with a national act booked to play there, no explanation. the other pub closed about a month ago. now what's left is the college hangouts. and the ilk of this particular college doesn't lend much hope to anything good replacing either of them, ever.

january sucks. it really does.

not wanting to go back to either store for my next book, i went to the huge chain that took over bookselling all over the country and bought - of all things - the sequel to the crime novel i just finished. crime! me! like i'm gonna relate to some do-gooder reporting ne'er do wells to the authorities after cracking the case! what the fuck is wrong with me?

two days ago i had a horrible dream. you know the kind we all have where things aren't what you'd presumed and based your whole life on, one of those. you forgot to graduate high school, so your college degree doesn't count, you never had a child, you really got into that school... one of those. after four hours of sleep i just dragged myself out of bed, saying what the fuck man, what's wrong with you? done. today.

i drag myself to the store that's closing, all the beautiful curio is gone. the books are organized, with no piles on the floor. the owner is trying to convince schools and libraries to come and haul out whole sections for free. he knew i liked the ravens he had by the poe, so he went out to the trash and dug them out for me. he really really wasn't interested in any sentimentality so i just said thank you. but this place is gone. i bought two good books thinking, if i can't bring myself to do anything else, please let's not let it be that vapid nonsense i've been reading.

i could have just kept the sequel, but on principal i returned it. the store manager was aghast, but everyone LOVES this book! meanwhile, i tried in vain to find something to exchange it, anything that's not the equivalent of a tv show. brendan behan, nope. dave mustaine's autobiography? uh, who? seemed like anything good on the shelves, i already read, and the categories were just too stupid, and i couldn't abide a store carrying jon bon jovi, but not dave mustaine. what the hell??

i took the cash refund from the stupid book over to the big box craft store, and bought some motherfucking birds, bees and butterflies. they are up and around my house to keep me company.

january ends with a protest right down by Occupy, against monsanto. farmers are suing monsanto, and we intend to mass outside the courthouse to show support for farmers. i'm taking my mom. it's her first protest in a very long time. i'll still have to get through february, but the days are just a little longer, and just a little warmer, rockso and i can go to the park to seethe and hate the joggers. it's what i do best.

Comments

shadeshaman's picture

Ha! I logged on here, just to pop in, before I duckduckgo'ed "avoidance behavior" and maybe "bills" or "winter". Because I'm not doing the shit that I'm "supposed" to do (namely pay bills). And there was a cold snap here a couple of weeks ago, cold enough that when I stepped outside, I was surprised that there wasn't snow on the ground (not falling, too cold for snow to fall...after it falls and it's all cold and shitty), and I sorta fell off my diet, and didn't make much music, but just basically sat around and watched TV and wished that I was doing something else. I remember a few years ago, a friend of mine went to Sundance, which happens this time of year in Park City, Utah, and she commented when she got back that she felt like all she did the whole time was to eat, and that she was always hungry.
So, what is up? Are you and I suddenly lazy, suddenly lacking drive, suddenly gluttonous? I don't think so. I think it's just winter and our bodies are reacting the way they are made to, and this crappy world that we live in that expects that we should be fucking "doing machines" instead of "human beings" is what's fucking us in the ass.

Maybe you can start an underground cabaret and random book-reading (out loud) night.

"Mediocrity knows nothing higher than itself; but talent instantly recognizes genius"--Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

shadeshaman's picture

PS, when I watch trash on TV, it's crime shows. My mind likes to solve puzzles.
PPS I just read a book called "Netherland" by Joseph O'Neill. I think you might like it.

"Mediocrity knows nothing higher than itself; but talent instantly recognizes genius"--Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

mamanopajamas's picture

the closures of the cool places are uber sucky on top of the general suckiness of Januaries...i feel like crawling in bed and pulling the covers over my head until Spring MOST Januaries....

 "Do not speak--unless it improves on silence." ~ buddhist saying (wow - my email on file was so old - it was from the old hipmama email!)