LADEELEROY

2003-08-05

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Here's My List Of Shitty Things That Probably Aren't That Entertaining In The Least
 
  I don't know what it is with me, but for the last two weeks, I've been really down and out. Something is off. It's kind of like when you open a refrigerator in a hotel room and you just happen to get a good whiff of something. It's not a good something, but it's a recognizable bad smelling something--- but not so recognizable that you're able to say "Hey. I know that smell, that's the smell of this something I totally recognize with out any hesitation."

I speak in metaphors to describe how I've been feeling lately. I feel like something in my life has rotted a bit but I don't know what and I can't figure out how to get rid of the smell.

It's like a case of ultra-light depression. Not Depression 100s. Not Turkish Gold Depression. Just Depression Ultra-Lights...

There's a number of things that I can contribute to the recent drags I've been taking of the Depression Ultra-Lights. And you know what? It's been so long since I've done a random listing of things that I think it's time for one right now.

THINGS LADEELEROY THINKS MAY BE CAUSING HER RECENT PHASE OF DEPRESSION ULTRA-LIGHT

  • I become part-time in two weeks. That's right. The full time summer gig is up because the chillins have something called an 'education' to get back to come mid-August. Now this isn't a horrible thing. At least I'm just going to part-time thing instead of a no-time no-pay situation. Nonetheless, I'm one of those types that wakes up in the middle of the night and worries about money, which is such a shitty thing to sit up and worry about in the middle of the night. I'd rather be worried about bigger things, like George W. getting re-elected in 2004 or if I left the kettle on. But instead, I'm working out payment plans in my head. Which totally sucks and, therefore, makes me ultra-light depressed.
  • I am turning into a hermit. I don't pick up the phone when it rings. Haven't talked to some major players in the family web in a really really long time. Last night I rented "About A Boy". Tonight I rented "Scotland PA" and turned the phone's ringer off. The most productive thing I did since I came home from work was make tunafish salad. I've got these weird sporadic entries in the journal. Everytime I sit down to write something, I can't think of anything to write about because I don't even know where to start or what to say or if I even want to write anything... which blows because usually LadeeLeroy brings alot of joy and pride. But at the moment, it makes me nervous to write and to actually communicate with others. I was at a party about two weeks ago and for the first hour I couldn't have a normal conversation with anyone. I was saying incredibly mundane things like, "Well pastels are just in I guess" and "Hm. I think I'll look into the history of botany." People that I normally really really enjoy being around, I couldn't even go up and talk to them because I just had no idea what to say. What an icky feeling. Especially when being social is something that comes so easily and willingly. This weird phase of shyness and huddling up fetal position style inside the inner parts of my brain sucks ass. Which, therefore, causes me to become depressed.

  • What am I doing with my art? Oh my God. Did I just type that question? Did I really just put that in bold HTML in an unlisted list format and am I intending on leaving it there? Is this a hemp necklace around my neck? Is that Indian music playing in the background? Is this Nag Champa incense that I have burning next to my Beatle mousepad? Oh my God. It is. I've become one of those people. One of those people who asks questions like "What am I doing with my art?" and actually means it. Jesus Christ.
  • My brakes are going out on my 1989 Honda Civic DX. Everytime I brake, the make a screeching noise. When I go over small potholes in the street, they start to make a screeching noise. When I come up close to bus stops, the people waiting to be picked up look at my car because it sounds like a bus when it stops. Lipman thinks he can replace the pads on them. Lipman burned the lamb casserole he made on Sunday because he forgot to turn the heat down. Ultra-light Depression continues.
  • Speaking of Lipman I love that guy. I really do. Totally am crazy in love with him. What a shitty week we've had together. I don't know what it is, but we were at each other's throats about every single thing. We've gotten in fights about the following petty things: belly dancers, how to clean out an aquarium, how a brake system works, if gel makes your hair look wet in a stupid way, if it's good to put glass over an oil painting, etc. What stupid shit to fight over, but we're doing it. And then after an hour or two has passed one of us will say, "What the hell were we fighting for?" and the other will answer "I really don't fucking know." And then we're back to talking to each other in ridiculous monkey chatter voices until one manages to piss the other one off by not putting the cap back on the toothpaste. Relationships are so fucking weird. I'm glad I'm in one with him, but still. Weeeeeird.
  • Grief is a real bitch. Holy shit. Grief is such a bitch. One minute you'll think that you're handling everything really well and then you'll find out that someone you know has the same birthday as the person you're grieving over. Or a random thought about a conversation you once had over instant messenger that was only about two minutes long will suddenly be remembered word for word. Or a mix CD that you made for your loved one before he died will pop into your CD rotation, but you won't be able to play it because you're scared that it will trigger something that you can't handle. Goddammitall. I'm glad that I am able to grieve and I'm glad that I am able feel comfortable when I do so. But shit. It sucks to go through. Sigh. I need to take a break now and go cry.
  • I'm out of toilet paper. Ah. No toilet paper. Had to use the shower curtain for dabbing tear purposes. Ultra-Light Depression causes classiness. Pass it on.
  • This is all normal. You know what? Everyone goes through shit like this. There are just times in your life where things will feel a bit out of control, a bit scary, a bit shitty. But what can you do about it? Yeah, crying is nice. Taking a break is nice. Dealing is nice. But maybe also celebrating these moments of shit will help in some way. Totally fucking granola to say, but really-- when my life is so perfect I'll miss times like these. So, buck up LadeeLeroy. Enjoy the Ultra-Light Depression. Brighter days are ahead. Hoorah for depression. Hurrah!

Well. I feel better now. I think I'll go take a bath and then go to bed on top of the covers somewhat damp. It's just one of those evenings, I guess.

 
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