"One chicken. Um...let's try that again. Let's see: one chicken. Oh."

2005-01-10 - 5:59 a.m.

So, last night turned bad in a hurry.

I played D&D (the guys, in case you're curious, seemed to miss my beard but be okay with my head. They said I have a good shape), and that was fine, fun, really. I told a lot of jokes, which in retrospect may have been a little bit overcompensation for how I'm feeling generally. Then, about two minutes into my walk home, the bottom fell out of my good mood. I walked home, thinking about how I don't like how I'm behaving lately ("brittle" could be a good way, "nasty" is probably an appropriate description of how I've been relating to Pookie), about how I've been uncharacteristically nursing "rescue" fantasies, where someone will come along and give me a job, or money, or something for no reason at all and with a minimum of fuss. I observed that over the last few days a small part of my self-preservation parts have been sluggish; I've caught myself about to let inertia carry me into traffic.

I feel like I've been mostly holding everything together, not because of choice but because how would I let things go? For one reason or another, most of my lynch-pins of sanity are unavailable or absent. I feel like I'd be inflicting myself on people who have bigger fish to fry. But I'm getting tired trying to stay upright, but watching myself drop things a little bit at a time. I'll have a day where I get almost everything done, except I'll put off making an important phone call or won't send out a resume, for no good reason except that I procrastinated. It's not a comfort to say "I'm probably just depressed" because, to my crazy mind, once I know the cause, I have a responsibility to get over it.

A part of me just wants to be pushed beyond the point where I can hold things together. Mostly, I just feel tired a lot, and that horrible land where I lose it seems fascinatingly close.

This morning, I'm better. I still slept poorly last night: I pretty much consciously forced myself to dream as I dozed, obsessively running through the same scenario (some dream thing, possibly erotic, not because I wanted an erotic dream but because it was the dream I was having when I realized I was about to wake up) over and over again until I felt it was safe to open my eyes and look at the clock. It was late enough, so I got up.

I have some plans for today, which is good. I'm going to the gym, first, then I am going to the Employment Insurance office where I really hope they give me some money, if not immediately then soon. The trend in my life would indicate that they'll say I put off applying for too long and so am no longer eligeable, and then I guess I need to apply for welfare or something, which means more tasks that I get to put off until it's too late.

It's another case of counting my chickens, I guess, but this EI thing is the last chicken. I counted my chickens and came up with the number "one". It's hard not to count when the number's that low. Anyone have any extra chickens?

Anyway, as I said, I'm in a better mood than last night. You can tell by the way I'm bubbling over in this entry. After the EI office, I'm going to send out some more resumes and hope for the best.

I will say that making sure I remind myself that this is only temporary has been a little helpful. In six months time, I'll re-read these entries and say "Wow, I'm glad that's over."

My real New Year's resolution is to get better.

Cheers,

The Magus

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