sunday, november twenty-sumthin before thanksgiving.

Things are running increasingly slower for me these last few weeks. I realized this a while ago, and have not been happy with it – my recent reticence to join in on happy hours and late nite roams, and even (gasp) finding myself this morning refusing to rise early enough to make it to our once-a-week pre-work farmers’ market down the block in the park. Mornings, in general, have gotten way tougher. Things have slowed. Less excitement. More perfunctory focus. More "to do" thoughts, and less "to do!" ones. It’s been an elephant in the living room kinda don’t-look-at-it-and-it-won’t-exist-and-life-goes-on kinda problem. You know those? But it’s been gnawing the haell outta me. And, just today, I was able to land some accusatory fingers towards some probable culprits.

1. (Our prime suspect) The Office Job. The return to the office life has definitely been taking a physical if not mental, emotional, and probably spiritual toll. Being in an office, in the same space, expected to be SITTING at the same desk (at the SAME DESK) for hours behind whateva the hell cubicle wall is is just totally not good for me. Maybe its not good for anybody, I dunno, and can’t speak for any others. But, just as my energies dwindle before dispersing after a good, crazy, busy livin spell as in GrrrlFest or running the engineering camps, I thrive in the quick pace, and dull out and lose it somewhat – or maybe pretty much -- it when life slows. Yeah. An, yeah, probably more so after these manic bursts of activeness I tend of welcome into my life. My own childless post-pardum depression crashes. Probably just in another one.

The office pace is way slower than both the waiting tables pace and the "on long overdue vacation" not-working pace (which, much to my surprise, i grew quite fond of. seriously. i thought i'd go nuts. but wow was i digging the not workin. yep. a big fan now.). And the energy I get from them for later non-work pursuits is way different too, Confined work can lead my energies to yearn for the following: alone time, comfort, sleep, playing it safe, exciting food (how boring). It’s not so cut and dry, you know, but working in non-confined space (or, uh, the not working) led to exploration, realizing that my pre-set limits weren’t, saying “what the hell” more, seeking out action, and making my own self comfortable. Simply said, if I was straight up wih myself, the frantic pace of the non-office suits me much better. The movement of the non-office suits me better. The access to windows and outdoors of non-office work suits me better. The shake up I give to the strictness and social order I hold myself to on some Capricornian levels of non-office work suits me better. Much, much better. Yeah, it’s true that the office work will pick up. And I won’t always haveta be at my desk – my stupid, walled in, windowless desk. But, for now, it’s soul sucking. And not at all pitching in at the vibrance department. It’ll get better fo sho, but sometimes, I’m just not patient. And offices, they just basically really suck. I’m not really lovin my job today, am I? No, no I am not. A hard way to end a Sunday/start to a Monday. Oh well. Que sera.

2. The No Book. Also on the list of culprits is that I finished my "Our Band Could Be Yer Life" book, and haven’t found a suitable successor. Since I got here, I was reading on the subway, in the park, in random bars and restaurants, before failing in resistance to my heavying lids in bed. And I was always looking forward to it when I wasn’t reading. The last two books, I was in love. That one and "Please Kill Me." Totally into them. And reading an awesome book brought a certain amount of curiosity out that far extended beyond the reading to other things. Now, not so curious. Not so fun.

3. The Absence of Smokey Treats. Augh! Also, I stopped smoking, and, maybe accordingly, have been ravenously hungry all the time. The plethora of new-to-me NY restaurants are very willing to step up and appease my rampant and indiscriminate hankerings. While I realize that eating is better for me than smoking, I just don’t thrive when over-fed. Call gendered social foul if you must; I know what works for me. And also, giving up smoking makes you all edgy and temperamental and fucked up anyway, right? Right. So that's probably not helping things any either.

Wow, reading back, I’m a real treat these days, huh? Yeah, well, November’s never really been my month. It’s usually when I wane most drastically. And, realizing this, I’ve gotta fight like hell to make December, January, February, and March less spiraling. Planning on doing so this year. Grrrr (looking very intimidating, and flexing muscles now)!

So, yep. Now, I have all of these edgily displaced craving for the excitement that was my life roaming New York and being free of many of my self-imposed social conventions my first month in town. And, in my hungers and comfort yearnings, I see myself trying to fill a gap that lessening the level of good crazy livin has left.

Or maybe im just settling in. (I throw that out, but don’t believe that I would settle in anyplace so awesome that i was to be in for a limited time so very warily. Or that i would settle in this uncomforably to anywhere, really.)

Either way, I know that those plan B fillers aren’t gonna cut it. And i’ve got some antidotes planned. I’ll let you know how they’re working!

On a side note, work today had its moments. Sunday brunch is always crazy busy. Only two servers work the entire restaurant, divvying up the tables down the center room. Brunch runs from 11-4, and it’s straight up nuts. Usually, tips are way good, but, without fail, there’s a time or two each Sunday when the other server and I are sure the other is gonna lose it and walk out or start throwing plates of food at the tables, or pull out an arsenal. Something. It gets packed, and very demanding. Today, I totally had one of those moments. I learned long ago that the things that end up causing stress at restaurants are so much better off forgotten than dwelled upon or rehashed, but, perhaps let the lesson be that if one chooses to devote their attention in stressed out ways to something out of your control like maybe the amount of time one's food is taking to get out of the kitchen, one is choosing to lose their own free time to the land of bad thoughts and tension. And, if this is what one needs to do, maybe one should not choose to go to a busy brunch restaurant. Unless one is from the “brunch as high-tension drama” school. In which case, cmon back again next week, table 114! (i work the otha side next week. Everyone else was lovely today.) I’m gonna quit soon. Got enough work on my plate. And, despite the above rant, the probs not with the non-office job 1 vs the office job 2. It’s my overall attack. I’ll get better.

On another side note, lots of people have said they were gonna come visit me here. I really want to get a visitor sometime. I miss hosting people. And I miss my friends and my sisters. Would totally love to have someone here to wander with. Maybe that’s my comfort urge speaking. But I duncare. Lemme know if you wanna come visit!

Ok. Signing out from the Lotus down the block and cross Houston again. Happy beginning to the short holiday workweek, yall. Horray for three-day weeks! Heep heep, hareee!! Heep heep, haree!!! (that's what they say in Holland instead of "hip hip, horray!")