Heat wave!
I don't know if this happens to anyone else out there, but I find that my body has serious issues regulating its own temperatures. In some ways, I wonder if the perception of hot and cold can be simultaneously due to environmental influences and be the product of a psychosomatic interpretation. I mean, do I feel hot because it's actually hot in my house or do I feel hot because I think it's hot? Regardless, I'm uncomfortable and it's 11pm here.
I should be sleeping. But sleep has been unpredictable these days. Last night, I fell asleep at about 2am and woke at 4:45am when my gorgeous pooch, Robbie, demanded his morning bathroom run. Of course, after waking, I couldn't go back to sleep, so I decided to trek down to Chicago for a marine aquarium conference, which was amazing.
Beside the point. What was super discombobulating was going to bed at 11pm on Thursday, waking at 5am to walk the damn dog, going back to sleep and not waking up again until 4:30pm. Seriously, I was expecting to wake up around 11am. The funny thing was that I could have easily slept longer but I was thinking that my fish would be expecting their morning meal!
One of the things that my psychiatrist mentioned to Brendan is that he should watch my sleep schedule because changes typically indicate some kind of shift in mood. Considering I've been paralyzed with depression lately, a change in mood is welcome.
RANDOM ASIDE. One of the funny things that having pets or kids does to the responsible party is force you to consider their perception. I mean, when you take your kids out, you need to provide for their potential needs until you'll be home again. Don't wanna go out with a diaper.
Well, I've been thinking about my fish. They peer out at me and I wonder if they have any idea that they're stuck, that they could have been born in the ocean or a river or lake, but instead, they were spawned in an aquaculture facility.
I wonder if my betta fish gets lonely. I was thinking about getting him a gal so they could mate and have little betta fishes. After all, that's what we're all here for in the end. My fish exists to create more fishes. I exist to have kids. Further my genetic signature.
I had to raid my piggy bank today to get enough money to pay for the tolls to get to Chicago. I still ran out of change because I got lost. Try paying a toll with pennies. They don't appreciate it. Neither do the people behind you. Kind of embarassing. That's why I don't like to go out. It's the little things that make you feel like a complete ass.
At this conference today, I was reminded about the first time I was absolutely certain that I was different from other girls my age. I was 17, doing a semester abroad in London and I spent my time in museums and churches instead of pubs and clubs. The other girls in my program stayed out until 3am and I went with them a few times. But really, I felt no need to drink away my money when I could stroll on the Thames. Alas. Seeing museums, movies, plays, churches and general sites alone didn't bother me. Eating in a cute cafe with a good book didn't bother me. Going to the Proms and watching the band morph into this living entity alone didn't bother me.
The other girls were scandalized by having to ride the tube alone.
I was by myself at the conference today too. And when I looked around, I realized that women just don't do that. There were men there by themselves. But women? Nope. I was the only one. Upon realizing that, I actively looked for other women who came by themselves, but there were none.
Is being by yourself so hard?
I've been feeling fairly misanthropic lately, so predictably, I've been fairly anti-social. I don't particularly like a whole lot of people. I tend to be a bit paranoid. Not like, everyone's trying to kill me paranoid, but more like, the evil superficial bitches of the world are trying to fit me into a stereotype of humanity that I don't belong in. Maybe everyone feels this way. We're all a little suspicious of each other.
This type of thinking can easily be a side effect of depresson as well. I mean, I can usually tell I'm depressed when someone does something nice or says something nice and my first thought it, why are they being nice to me? I conclude that they either want something or they feel bad for me. Greed or pity.
That's why my pets are so refreshing. People can be duplicitious little shits. Cats, dogs and fish? They're predictable. My cats want food, a clean litter box, fresh water and occasionally, a nice lap to hang out on. My dog wants three walks a day. He likes other dogs. Tennis balls. Open spaces. A comfy bed. My fish? Clean water and food.
Animals are simple. And in some senses, when you treat people like you treat animals, people become simple too. After all, people like good food, a clean habitat, affection and entertainment.
Hmmm. My playlist just jumped from Metallica to Bach. It's good to be me.
And I'm sure that it's good to be you too.
|
I should be sleeping. But sleep has been unpredictable these days. Last night, I fell asleep at about 2am and woke at 4:45am when my gorgeous pooch, Robbie, demanded his morning bathroom run. Of course, after waking, I couldn't go back to sleep, so I decided to trek down to Chicago for a marine aquarium conference, which was amazing.
Beside the point. What was super discombobulating was going to bed at 11pm on Thursday, waking at 5am to walk the damn dog, going back to sleep and not waking up again until 4:30pm. Seriously, I was expecting to wake up around 11am. The funny thing was that I could have easily slept longer but I was thinking that my fish would be expecting their morning meal!
One of the things that my psychiatrist mentioned to Brendan is that he should watch my sleep schedule because changes typically indicate some kind of shift in mood. Considering I've been paralyzed with depression lately, a change in mood is welcome.
RANDOM ASIDE. One of the funny things that having pets or kids does to the responsible party is force you to consider their perception. I mean, when you take your kids out, you need to provide for their potential needs until you'll be home again. Don't wanna go out with a diaper.
Well, I've been thinking about my fish. They peer out at me and I wonder if they have any idea that they're stuck, that they could have been born in the ocean or a river or lake, but instead, they were spawned in an aquaculture facility.
I wonder if my betta fish gets lonely. I was thinking about getting him a gal so they could mate and have little betta fishes. After all, that's what we're all here for in the end. My fish exists to create more fishes. I exist to have kids. Further my genetic signature.
I had to raid my piggy bank today to get enough money to pay for the tolls to get to Chicago. I still ran out of change because I got lost. Try paying a toll with pennies. They don't appreciate it. Neither do the people behind you. Kind of embarassing. That's why I don't like to go out. It's the little things that make you feel like a complete ass.
At this conference today, I was reminded about the first time I was absolutely certain that I was different from other girls my age. I was 17, doing a semester abroad in London and I spent my time in museums and churches instead of pubs and clubs. The other girls in my program stayed out until 3am and I went with them a few times. But really, I felt no need to drink away my money when I could stroll on the Thames. Alas. Seeing museums, movies, plays, churches and general sites alone didn't bother me. Eating in a cute cafe with a good book didn't bother me. Going to the Proms and watching the band morph into this living entity alone didn't bother me.
The other girls were scandalized by having to ride the tube alone.
I was by myself at the conference today too. And when I looked around, I realized that women just don't do that. There were men there by themselves. But women? Nope. I was the only one. Upon realizing that, I actively looked for other women who came by themselves, but there were none.
Is being by yourself so hard?
I've been feeling fairly misanthropic lately, so predictably, I've been fairly anti-social. I don't particularly like a whole lot of people. I tend to be a bit paranoid. Not like, everyone's trying to kill me paranoid, but more like, the evil superficial bitches of the world are trying to fit me into a stereotype of humanity that I don't belong in. Maybe everyone feels this way. We're all a little suspicious of each other.
This type of thinking can easily be a side effect of depresson as well. I mean, I can usually tell I'm depressed when someone does something nice or says something nice and my first thought it, why are they being nice to me? I conclude that they either want something or they feel bad for me. Greed or pity.
That's why my pets are so refreshing. People can be duplicitious little shits. Cats, dogs and fish? They're predictable. My cats want food, a clean litter box, fresh water and occasionally, a nice lap to hang out on. My dog wants three walks a day. He likes other dogs. Tennis balls. Open spaces. A comfy bed. My fish? Clean water and food.
Animals are simple. And in some senses, when you treat people like you treat animals, people become simple too. After all, people like good food, a clean habitat, affection and entertainment.
Hmmm. My playlist just jumped from Metallica to Bach. It's good to be me.
And I'm sure that it's good to be you too.
|
posted by Becky at 11:38 PM
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