Monday, November 15, 2010

Procrastination Station! ...all aboard? Nevermind.

My lovely, most wonderfully tender-hearted Blogpals, I write to you from the floor in one of few open spots in the heap of nonsense that is my living room.  Something about these last few weeks has left me completely and utterly disabled when it comes to things like cleaning, or carrying my belongings upstairs, or applying makeup, or fixing my hair... really anything that takes more than 45 seconds to a minute has been eliminated from my daily routine.

I am just walking around in these clouds of uselessness, you see.  And not those clouds.  I haven't smoked pot in years.  These clouds are head clouds, but not the dark rainy kind.  They are enormous white puffs of cotton, and they are probably shaped like ice cream or bunnies, but I haven't taken the time to notice.  I am simply dazed.

I turned in my letter of resignation at work, which is the most exciting thing that I have to tell you (yes, that's as good as it gets).  It's mostly only exciting because I wrote it in my best Old English (very poor), which my supervisor will find humorous, and my human resources manager will find annoying.  Two birds with one stone, you know.

And so the awesome thing about turning in your notice at your job as that every day when you wake up, the usual feelings of misery and empty longings for a slow death are replaced by thoughts like, "AW, HELLZ YEAH.  Only X more days until I never have to go to that horrible, wretched place ever again!"  And that is a wonderful feeling, I am telling you.  The downside is that while you're at work, people keep putting things on your desk, and you keep pushing them around with your ruler, never really accomplishing anything.  And then you spend an inappropriate amount of time leaned back at your desk, dancing to Vampire Weekend and coveting jewelry on Etsy because why not?  In a few weeks this stuff won't matter and what are they going to do, anyway? Fire you?  Probably not.

So, it's been a couple weeks of unusual uselessness on my end.  I just sort of find myself standing places, looking at all the things that need to be done, and my mind wanders and... well, here we are.  I'm supposed to be packing up my belongings now, but you guys, I have accumulated a lot (A LOT!) of things while living in this little apartment, and I just don't know what to do with it all.  Moving with it is not an option.  Maybe you would like to take it off my hands?  I have some studious owls that I purchased at an estate sale.  Or perhaps a clock shaped like a record is more your style?  Maybe some paintings made with love by me and my roommate and a box of wine? A poster with Albert Einstein riding a bicycle?  These are just a few of the treasures I have to offer.

I badly want to tell you where I am going and the cause for all this absent-mindedness, but I am sort of liking keeping secrets.  So, I'm going to keep it up.  It'll be fun, I promise!

We had two couch surfers this weekend, it was... drunk?  Yes.

it got a little weird later in the evening.

1 comment:

  1. I am now vicariously burnt on couch surfers. How can you persist? Truly, you give beyond the requirements for sainthood. Either that, or they are buying.

    Is HE.. that is... E... pictured?

    I can ask that... can't I?

    And to think... you'll never have to decorate that brick wall.