November 4, 2012


when I was a kid on the day the clocks changed I always wanted to call the time at 1:59 AM and listen to it. this is how we used to always refer to it -- "calling the time." to call the time you dialed 410-844-1212. you could also call the weather, 410-936-1212. When you called the time, a mechanical sounding man's voice would say, "at the tone, the time will be one. forty-eight. and forty seconds." and then there was a beep. ten second increments. when you called the weather you could listen to a meteorologist give the temperature, followed by weather report for today, tonight, and tomorrow. it was always updated. it never occurred to me as a child to wonder about these services. they just were. I thought everybody had them. then I moved to central new york and there was nothing quite like them. I wonder if they still exist and who made them. vestiges of another time, when a robotic voice was the last authority on what time it was.

now we all have cell phones.

yesterday I woke up at 8:30 at the house where I'm catsitting and watched an episode of korean TV while ruby, the cat, incessantly licked my arm. the night before I had come in at 1:30 and washed my eye makeup off with olive oil because of course I didn't bring over makeup remover. after my episode of korean TV I threw all my discarded clothes into a bag and walked out to my car in men's underwear, barefoot. then I went home and curled up into my chair and watched about 10 more hours of korean TV. I watched so much korean TV that when I went grocery shopping I accidentally only bought foods that are suitable for bibimbap, including kimchi. when I went to sleep I dreamed that I thanked someone in korean (the only korean I could be counted on to say if I suddenly found myself in seoul). what can I say except that I have hit the wall at work where all I can think about is how good it would be to sit around and do absolutely nothing. I have lost my will to move. korean TV is good for that, somehow. also, bibimbap is tasty, even if when you say "bibimbap" you mean "a weird trader joe's wild rice mixed with a bunch of chopped up vegetables and hastily tossed with soy sauce and toasted sesame oil." I got a daikon radish and kimchi, so I mean, whatever.

the real thing is that I don't have any motivation for anything at all. this is a familiar wall. over time I have learned that there is no way to surmount it except to somehow survive until there is enough time to sit around and do nothing for a few days. it's like I have a hidden reset button. all my fuses are blown, man. I had to give up running last week because of the crazy charley horse and now I've reverted to fuck that shit because really, fuck that shit. except I can't shake the guilt about how I'm not doing anything I should be doing (hanging out with my horse, responding to the friends who have sweetly emailed me to ask me if I am still living, etc).

I wore a silk dress I've had for five years today to the matinee and four random strangers stopped me on the street to say "amazing dress." so, thank you for that small token, universe.

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