I find myself falling back into old habits and old relationship roles.  Some of it is really nice, like its great to relate to my brother on the level we used to before we started fighting again.  That’s awesome!  It’s not as awesome in other ways.  I’ve lived on my own for awhile now, as an adult.  Living back at home makes me feel like I’m back in high school.  I have to tiptoe around others’ schedules and, unlike roommates, you can’t sit your parents down and tell them that some things need to change around here.  They pay the mortgage, they get to make all those calls.  It’s a weird feeling.  For whatever reason I also have been listening to a lot of emotionally-loaded songs from my past recently.  I just sort of stumbled on one and that opened the flood gates.  Which is obviously just what I need because my anxiety level hasn’t been high enough as it is.

This is war.  Every line is about who I don’t want to write about anymore.

Speaking of my anxiety, holy crap.  I’ve never had an enduring problem with it in the past but now I just sort of constantly have a nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach that keeps me from eating well, so when I do eat I get nauseous.  It’s awesome, because I actually love food.  Everyone has commented that I’ve lost weight which is kind of nice but I’d rather be chubby than nervous all the time.  My romantic interest, Hammerson, has the privilege  of being someone who can alleviate completely and heighten exponentially my anxiety.  Shocking, eh?

This is the price you pay for loss of control.

As Banespa would say, I’m a ruminater.  I sit and I ruminate on what’s bothering me and figure out how it’s my fault, how I should have prevented it, and how it’s going to ruin some part of my life.  Then I worry myself into oblivion before maxing out, taking a deep breath, and not caring whatsoever.  The whole process can take up to a week.  A grueling, terrible week.  But then I genuinely don’t care anymore because mentally I just can’t–I’ve exhausted every thought about the problem.  It’s kind of cool once the torment is over.  I think the issue now is that I’m always expecting the worst possible outcome in many situations.  Sometimes it is bad.  Sometimes it’s worse than I even imagined.  And then sometimes it’s great or totally benign.  Growing up, man–it’s serious business.

The other old habit I’ve fallen into is laziness.  Without an academic schedule and a few thousand of my peers around I wait the extra day to shower, put laundry off until the last possible pair of underwear (grannies from about 10th grade), decide to save money and tweeze instead of waxing (which, when you’re lazy, equals unibrow), and spend weekends without ever changing out of my pajamas.  I think if I can kick these habits I’ll be more of a real person again.  What I really need (want) is to be back with my lovely lady lumps, Banespa, Crawlspace, and Leelee.  Those treasures kept me sane in a way you don’t appreciate until they’re absent.

God, this post is boring.  Seriously.  I swear to God I’m going to start reading again and posting on things that are actually interesting and not just sadsack Catalina Whine Mixers.

If it makes you less sad, I would die by your hand
Hope you find out what you want, already know what I am.
If it makes you less sad, we’ll start talking again
You can tell me how vile I already know that I am
…Call me a safe bet, I’m betting I’m not.
Glad that you can forgive, only hoping as time goes you can forget.
If it makes you less sad, I’ll move out of this state
You can keep to yourself, I’ll keep out of your way.
And if it makes you less sad, I’ll take your pictures all down
Every picture you paint I will paint myself out.
…So call it quits or get a grip.
You say you wanted a solution, you just wanted to be missed.
Call me a safe bet, I’m betting I’m not.
…You are calm and reposed.
Let your beauty unfold
Pale white, like the skin stretched over your bones
Spring keeps you ever close.
You are second-hand smoke.
You are so fragile and thin, standing trial for your sins
Holding on to yourself the best you can
You are the smell before rain.
You are the blood in my veins.

I like the last couplet.  Er, I did a LOT in high school (I know, I’m full of shocking news tonight!).

Oh, the last thing I’ll mention is some really endearing news.  My soulmate and adopted older sister, Lucy, has lived my life before my eyes and now I’m here for round two.  To clarify, Lucy is older than I am and though I was there for the relationships and break-ups and whatever, I find myself in eerily similar situations to her.  But, she’s my boo, so that’s to be expected.  Anyway, I was having a chat with a guy she used to date that I still talk to.  He told me about how much has changed since they dated and how much he’s realized in his subsequent relationships.  One thing he wanted me to tell her was that he finally had a real understanding of all the garbage he put her through and was truly sorry for how he had treated her, knowing how hard she was trying to make it last.  It warmed my icy heart.  So, I called her and told her and it warmed her icy heart, too.  Soulmates!

Ugh.  Work in the morning.  I love the people I work with but Friday was really a white-knuckle struggle to get through the menial tasks a monkey could do.  If tomorrow is the same way I’m going to need to come up with some kind of game to keep myself entertained.  Maybe a drinking game.  Then everyone in the office can be entertained.

Also, Dave Matthews is lame.  Thank you and goodnight.