"I Don't Paint Anymore"

“And the dawn don’t rescue me no more.” - The Band, “It Makes No Difference”

. . . 44 days . . .

Well, another day down. I woke up this morning (and I wrote down this song . . . no, just kidding). I woke up and wanted to roll over and hide. At least tonight Lost is on, so I’ll have something to watch while I’m packing. I managed to find a public notary yesterday, so I’m all set to send in all my bar stuff. I am really tired. And hungry. And fat. And miserable. Etc, etc, blah blah blah; “Shut up and stop complaining,” I can hear it now.

My blog is kind of running dry and I do not have an adequate explanation regarding why except for the obvious: it’s an extension of my general lack of inspiration and fruitfulness. As Ali says in The Notebook, “I don’t paint anymore.” “So paint,” her clueless fiancée replies stupidly. “I will,” she says, but to enact the change, something in her life has to fundamentally change first. She basically rerouted her entire existence. I bring it up only because that’s the movie I fell asleep to last night. I think tonight I’ll try Monsters, Inc. I wish I could go back in time to the beginning of the semester and kick myself into gear so I was thin and normal by the time spring break rolled around, so I could have been all enthusiastic about Florida and supremely enjoyed my time there. Then I could have been totally rejuvenated when I returned to school on Monday instead of being a giant blob with no hope and a surplus of frustration. I also have an explosion of pimples across my nose and cheeks, the only explanation for which is an excess of popsicles or gum (whatever the sugarfree component is causes whiteheads to proliferate with exuberance.) Wow, do I despise myself. And I just don’t know what to do. I’m too exhausted to do anything, but maybe that’s just depression. I almost miss my panic attacks, because at least then I was always running, always propelled, always inspired to do something, anything, whatever was expected of me. Now it’s all I can do to wash my laundry at night, although I gather not many people like doing laundry, so maybe I’m not alone in my abhorrence.