5:20 p.m. - 2004-03-29
Maybe
I am painfully, brutally, completely bored.
This, I realise, is not a very auspicious start to a journal entry. But I've been slacking off about updating because there is nothing to write about. I realise that's never stopped me before. But suddenly, I'm faced with this gaping maw of boredom that's overtaken me the last week or so, and the thought of putting in the effort to tell you guys about it seems so incredibly unnecessary.
I could tell you about the good books I've been reading lately, or how well my storytime went last week. I could talk about my knitting and how fucking annoyed I am about running out of wool three inches from the end of my bag on the day the wool store is closed. I could talk about the fact that I made a real, honest to goodness, four food groups dinner last night, for me and my mother's cousin. But it's boring, all of it, and I try to keep this journal from becoming nothing more than a log of my daily activities.
I could talk about how much I miss the Raisin, how it's a daily struggle of missing her, of wishing she lived ten minutes away, how the need to talk to her is a physical ache so often. I could tell you about how frustrating it is that our schedules are so opposite and so it's nearly impossible to schedule a visit for either of us. I could tell you about how excited I am to see her on Thursday, how much fun I think we'll have at the Barenaked Ladies with canoegirl. I could talk about how frustrating it is that two visits in a row will be a one day affair, not enough time to laugh and gossip and do all the things we want to do. But talking about it just seems to make it worse, and I spend most of my time pretending that I'm surviving without her, pretending that it doesn't suck more than anything's ever sucked before to be three hours away from your best friend with no end to the distance, ever.
I could talk about the wedding, the few things we have planned and the stuff that I'm excited about. Or I could talk about the ever-increasing list of weddings we're going to this summer, and how weird it is to realise that I'm one of those interminable numbers now. But endless wedding talk is boring to virtually everyone, and I'm making a concious effort not to be one of those people who never does anything but talk about her wedding, because I hate those people.
I could talk about the fact that I've started running again, and the muscle I pulled in my leg and how annoying it is to actually WANT to run and not being able to because it hurts too much. I could talk about how much I like running at night, how frustrated I am that I didn't figure out sooner that it would work better for me to run at night than in the morning. But really, there's not much to say about it. I run. And I am surprised and delighted by how much I like it. I have good, real running shoes, and they make all the difference in the world, and I occasionally feel like a real runner when I finish a run and feel like I could keep going. And I feel like if I talk about it too much, I'll jinx it.
I could talk about the weirdness I'm feeling about my former friends - people I lost contact with gradually, people who left my life more abruptly - and the constant wishy-washiness about whether I should call them.
But I don't. I don't talk about any of it. I sit at my computer, and I contemplate updating, and I don't. I surf the net, knit, ponder whether to have a shower, think about the mounds of laundry I need to do and get depressed at the thought of it. I long to run, and I can't. I want to write, and I don't. I need to work, and I haven't.
It's a cycle of frustration, a rut I've found myself in before, and I'm not sure what's going to get me out of it. Maybe once the weather clears up for real, once the brief flashes of warmth stop being fake outs and stick around for real, I'll feel more involved in the world. Maybe when Diana finishes student teaching, and I can see her on a more regular basis, I'll feel less desperately lonely without the Raisin. Maybe going on tour will be fun enough to shake things up for me a bit. Maybe once my leg heals up, I'll be able to run more often and actually run that 5k I've been eyeing. Maybe I'll do something with myself.
Maybe.
