Under-depressed

I haven't felt sad in days. What's the matter with me?

Purpose, purpose, purpose. I'm working and I have a schedule and with lines and notes and post-its, I am comforted as though wrapped in a blanket. Things have their place. Even me, at least for August. That's not to say it can't be changed, but it feels good to know what I'm to do at different intervals. Go here. Go there. Sleep. Work out. Smile. Nod. Argue. Laugh. Be quiet.

I've always been this strange mix between planner and dreamer, idiotically spontaneous and soul-crushing logical. I have not seen this breed before, even in me I confuse myself often. But if I don't keep me on my toes, who will? I am responsible for a moment, two jobs, moving apartments, keeping out of tangles with the ex (metaphorically speaking, mindfully speaking), talking on the phone, seeing my friends, even realizing I have more than I thought. This whole time I thought I needed more, but perhaps I need less. Of everything.

So after fleeing the country on a short jaunt, and just saying to hell with it, why not go to the Hamptons, Connecticut, Chicago for no reason at all, during the work week I am oddly calm, I don't feel thirsty or hungry all day, I sit in front of a computer and I get on the phone and I get some work done and I make notes and I take notes. It feels as good as being barefoot, which I also do, underneath my desk.

I am moving forward, the only direction as Jay-Z says (why does his rap always sound like he's about to burst into tears?). Today turns into tomorrow turns into next week turns into the end of the season and a clean house. Tidy, tidy, tidy, I am a little, story-book rodent with small hands arranging files and papers and folding blankets with satisfaction. Frog and Toad, Peter Rabbit, they had shirts and no pants and they did what they did. Rinse and repeat. I am that weird. I am that happy being neutral. To be disinterested, oh how I would love that, to not swing so wildly, to take a week and not live it like it's my last. I have opposite problems, I do not need to shake things up, I am shook up all the time, I need the wind to temper, I need the air to be still. I need to not need. I want to not want. I am meditating while typing, spilling a coffee, overturning cups of pens and papers. I can do this. If my heart can beat while I sleep, then I can write while invoking Om, damnit.

Someone crazy once told me the secret to happiness was taking it one day at a time, not thinking about the future for a moment. Nuh-uh. Lists and curlicues and status updates, a clean hand, a dirty mind, these are the things that keep me on track, I think...

I sure do think a lot. Could I turn off my brain if I tried very hard? I could, perhaps. Someone said I had a lot of energy, someone else said they couldn't be around me because I have too many ideas, someone else said they were with me to be 'along for the ride.' People say mean things. They sure do say them a lot.

I like to be alone now. This is something new. Something wonderful. Sitting in your underwear watching bad TV and eating three popsicles for dinner isn't something you can do with a boyfriend, I have realized. Bully for boyfriends, hooray for Gatorade.

And now, just move, a little ahead, bend and be flexible, get it done, tap it up, drink it in, go insane and do it again. That's all right, that's okay. Tomorrow is then, but this is today...

I'm a loon today...what else is new?