The title to this woefully overdue entry is referring to two things. One: I am attempting to learn how to be disciplined (shut up, I can hear you laughing)To that end, I have been downgrading some of the more frivolous things I depend on, such as my platinum hair colour. I opted for the cheaper version this time and I now resemble what can only be described as Mrs. Slocombe from ‘Are You Being Served’. I suppose it could be worse, and I could resemble the lispy white haired fella in men’s. Two: I am also walking to and from work this month and, for some reason, the weather is fucking stifling. Using the f-bomb just there means that I’m serious. To that end, I am wearing my workout gear and getting some annoyed looks from the suity-suits here in my office. Tough! Tell you what, sirs and madames, you rescind your right to BMW and I will put my suit back on.
I was in Virginia Beach last week with Herr Man…Friend… (manfried? manfred man?) and the McBainses (I love saying McBainses), in a rented house overlooking the salted Atlantic spread. That sentence was heavily parenthetical, I’m sorry. ANYWAY. Whilst in Virginia, I learned that I love sailing, shooting guns, seeing vets with their fake legs over their shoulders while waving american flags and that having Haagen Dasz ten minutes after Ben&Jerry’s gives you ‘heat stroke’. I have much to say about how the ocean affected me, but I think it will go into a far more personal document. I also realized that I miss my family very much, which is odd for me. Usually, I think of them as that supremely sculpted tree from which my black, straggled branch just sort of juts out. But their visit this summer was different somehow; I came away closer to my father and sisters and also feeling that I will never be able to spend enough time with my Mother.
My heart isn’t in this today, and that is rough on me. When I miss out on my writing time, I start to shut down and become confused. I had a strange dream about dismemberment last night that I remember the entirety of. I never remember them with such detail, so, it must mean something. Times like this make me wish I’d hung onto my shrink. And, with that, I have to cut this short (uh, no pun intended). It sucks and that is annoying me.