Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Just not doing it...
Well, the first thing I did after I wrote my post this morning was to go lie down on the sofa and fall asleep for about two hours. I still had my pajamas on and had not even walked the dog yet. He did not complain and just slept beside me and when I woke up, I took my time and smoked a cigarette while I got my bearings. I was befuddled and not feeling all that great and I was a bit confused about my mood, which didn't seem to be all that happy, but I blamed it on the effects of the nap.
I finally did end up getting dressed and taking the poor, patient dog for a walk and he was very relieved about that, but when I got home, I did not speed to the post office and the tobacconist like I was supposed to. I made myself a cup of coffee and sat down behind the computer and told myself that I could finish the coffee before I had to leave, giving myself a bit of time to gather my courage together.
Why I had to do this, I do not know, but for some reason it seemed difficult to run errands and I was trying to get out of it, though I could not and needed to do them. I was short of a great deal of enthusiasm and I knew I was not in a good mood the way I had been when I had gotten up earlier in the morning, when the world had been dark and quiet and safe.
I smoked three cigarettes and drank my coffee slowly. Actually, it was cold when I took the last sips of it. Then I got up and picked up the packages that I needed to mail, and grabbed my purse before I could change my mind, and wheeled my bike outside. With some amount of trepidation I rode it to the little post office in the grocery store and mailed the packages. It was not nearly the painful financial burden that I had anticipated it would be and that was a relief. Then I rode my bike over to the tobacconist and got my supply of tobacco and filter tubes and with a relieved heart rode my way home. I wanted nothing more than to be inside the apartment and to not go out again, except to walk the dog, and to be safe and sound within the four walls of the living room.
In my effort to understand myself and my moods, I'm trying to figure out this current one, but I'm unable to pinpoint the cause of my need to hole myself up and to not want to do anything, but to be safe and practically immobile. I feel like I have to nurture myself and protect myself from the world at large and to not do anything upsetting, however small a deed that is. I am living with all my chores undone and don't have any of the motivation or the drive or the necessity to get them done and I don't feel bad about it, because I know that they will get done when I'm done feeling this way. All I can think is that somehow I must make myself secure and find as much peace and quiet as I possibly can and in no way make anything complicated at all. It's as if I'm in the waiting room of a large train station, that is well insulated against the noise around me, and I'm going to have to wait a long while for my train. It's possibly The Orient Express and I'm going on a long journey past the point of destination.
I don't know why I am melancholy. I must be over yesterday's meeting by now. As far as I can see everything has been clearly settled and there are no unknowns. It may be the weather that's influencing me. We are having an Indian summer, but the sunlight is shining at a different angle and makes the world look forlorn and lonely, as if it is giving up its last good days before fall really starts. I think I would feel more normal if the sky was overcast and gray and if some rain would fall out of it. Now it is as if we are waiting for the Second Coming and the world is holding its breath. Actually, this best could be described as earthquake weather and it would be, if I still lived in California. Maybe this is what it reminds me of.
Yes, I'm sure that's it. California in the fall. One of the seasons that I could never get used to, because there was no cold wind and there were no trees changing colors or bulky sweaters to wear. I always felt there was something wrong and felt very alienated from my environment, as if I was in the wrong place. That's how it feels now. I suppose people have a seasonal clock inside themselves and anticipate certain kinds of weather, at least the kind they're used to growing up with. I suppose I long for cold weather now and bulky clothes and warm socks and boots. Remind me to not complain about these things later on in the season. It's not true that sunlight always makes you happy. I can be very glad with overcast days and drizzling rain.
I need to go take a nap. I feel it in my bones. There is a certain kind of weariness. The sofa looks awfully inviting and I think I will go lie down there with my book.
Have a good rest of the day and enjoy your weather, especially if you happen to have a nice shower right now.