"We got back from somewhere inside my head." - Owl City, "Sunburn"
Yes, still listening to Owl City. Not right now, I meant in the long run. Right now I'm listening to crappy pop music from a new CD I bought myself as a guilty pleasure from WalMart tonight. Currently it's Rihanna's "we found love" which is surprisingly catchy. Cause Rihanna sucks.
Okay. So for whatever reason, I have uncovered an epiphany that I must share with the unbridled world of the internet. Because that's who reads this. The internet.
Epiphany. Yes. That.
Okay, the other night while my roommate and I were alone in the house we snuck upstairs for a chance at the kitchen. There was cooking and the many making of foods. It was an incredibly zen time and it occured to me that the only reason my roommate and I fight all the time is because we're cramped in a basement together. I mean, think about it. We live in 3 rooms - the miniscule bathroom, our "living" room (where our food supply is crammed into a utility closet and bar fridge, there's a couch, a futon, our desk and many bookshelves filled with movies, books, and video games), and the bedroom we share. Things are a bit tight, and we're both itching to move.
Yes, I said BOTH.
"There's a side of you that I never knew, never knew." - Adele, "Set Fire to the Rain"
I don't know what changed, but she's decided to stay here in sleepy Campbell River, live in a townhouse with me and our cats, and take schooling for her art. I'm so proud of her following her tortured dream. It's been forever in the making, and it's great to see her finally taking steps in that direction. Yay!
Needless to say, I'm pretty damn happy and excited. I feel more envigorated than a fat kid and a pie.
She's my best friend in the world, and there's nothing that would make me happier than to decorate a place of our very own together, save up for nice things and pay our way, be independent. I'm so tired of living with parents, and we live so symbiotically together that it works out perfectly. As long as we both have room to breathe, I know it'll work. The only reason we're so sharp at each other right now is because we're cramped. We're stuck in this tiny basement, and while I'm thankful to her family for taking me in when they didn't need to, I'm itching to get out on our own. It would be so nice!
Anyway what else can I ramble about?
"Get a little closer to me and you'll understand." - Cobra Starship, "You Make Me Feel"
Work has been work. I'm happier there every day. I feel like I may have found my place. I like my desk job and my little projects and my cleaning. Most of all I love my coworkers and the clients. I love seeing all the dogs, seeing the puppies turn into dogs, seeing the kittens get homes. I love seeing the sick dogs go home healthy. I like talking to people, complimenting their pets, asking after their other ones. I like calling the people, being friendly, asking how their dog/cat is doing after his/her visit. They're always so appreciative. The friendships I've made with my coworkers are very strong. I'm going to miss my one colleague, she's hilarious and possibly the most bubbly person I've met. She's always bringing things for us, food, little items, advice, laughter. She's moving with her veterinarian husband in the first week of April and I'm going to miss her. She says the funniest things, and always makes us laugh. What will we do without her?
On another note, I've been neglecting not only my blog but my writing in general, and my other interests. Work saps me of all I have, and by the time I get home it's a struggle for me to shower and cut up some veggies for dinner. Gosh I've become so lazy! Though I don't know if it's really laziness or if I'm just tired all the time. That brings me to my next point:
I've had the most magical medical problems of late. My period has been on hiatus for just under two months, and it hasn't shown any signs of rearing it's ugly head. I would be worried of pregnancy, but I've taken two HPT's and they were both negative (though we didn't properly do anything anyway, so it would be pretty impossible). I did it as a precaution, and got the answer I expected. So I'm wondering, if not that, what is it? What's causing this almost 2 month hiatus? Where are ya?
Other than that, I've had lots of headaches, and back aches, mostly in my shoulders and shoulder blade area. My stomach has been off and on for the past...I don't know, six weeks now? My appetite has changed during the day, some days I'm starving, some days I eat practically nothing and don't feel hungry. I'm working on a diet, but it's pretty easy to stick to (besides the birthday cake I ate the other day...). It's not really even a diet, it's just me trying to eat healthier foods. I'm also going as vegetarian as I can. Which means almond milk (in lieu of soy, which can taste chalky), vegetable salads with olive oil and sea salt, peanut butter, fruit, etc. It's pretty awesome. Who knew healthy food could be so simple, inexpensive, and taste so good? My favourite new discovery is this incredible almond milk...it's made by a company that produces really good almonds as snacks, so I thought I'd give it a shot. So far I've only tried the unsweetened vanilla flavour, but I have a regular, and a chocolate too (also unsweetened). It's pretty amazing. I love, love, love the vanilla flavour over some granola. It's delicious, and makes for a very simple (and vegan!) breakfast or quick dinner. I find that my meals aren't really conventional anymore...I'm trying to eat a few small things throughout the day, and lots of water or juice. That way my body isn't hit with a large meal at any point, I stay satisfied, and I (hopefully) will start losing weight soon. I'm working on a workout regimen, but I find the only time I have an excess of time or energy is on the weekends. Work keeps me pretty busy and by the time I get home, well, I just don't want to do anything else. I walk to and from work, which is only about 15 minutes each way, but at least it's something. Maybe eventually it'll get a bit easier.
This is going to be a really long entry.
"Yellow diamond in the light, and we're standing side by side as your shadow crosses mine; what it takes to come alive is the way I'm feeling. I just can't deny it but I've got to let it go. We found love in a hopeless place." - Rihanna, "We Found Love"
I need to get back into poetry. I've decided.
I decided this when I was at work today and researching intestinal parasites for a newsletter my coworker and I are collaborating on to write. How did parasites make me think about my poetry? Well I was working on a rough draft for the newsletter (an intro to why deworming is critical to pets' and humans' health) and I realized that I was getting way too into it. It was starting to sound really fancy. I noticed that my words were becoming more and more flourishy looking. I of course scrapped it and went back to something more matter-of-fact, but I was thinking about my poetry writing and how I used to just let myself go. What happened to all that? Where did my creativity go? Did I become domestic?
Let's face it, I wasn't exactly a rebel from the start anyway. But I used to be so free in my music. I used to get into a state of mind where the words would keep coming like a waterfall and all I had to do was direct the water. Where did that go? Why did I stop writing?
I could tell myself I got "too busy", or "life got in the way". But honestly, what do I have going on? Work? Yeah, everyone works though. Most of them work harder than I do. I mean it's not physical labor. It's not something that demands too much of me. Yes, sometimes I get stressed out, but that's normal when you spend your time talking to people all day, dealing with their problems, trying to pass along their messages, cleaning up other people's messes. And all the while trying to look busy in the quiet times, doing projects, cleaning things for the upteenth time, trying to make sure that I'm productive when there's absolutely nothing to produce. Sometimes I need octopus hands to get everything done, sometimes I wish time would pass faster so I didn't look like I was doing nothing sitting behind my desk. I mean it looks like we don't really do much, but without us, the place probably wouldn't run. Most of the employees don't know how to invoice out a client, let alone file the paperwork, follow protocol, etc etc. It doesn't sound taxing, but it can be. Some days I just want to cry I'm so tired, and stressed, and if there's a particularly heartbreaking case (like the people that have only 7 ferrets now since they lost 4 in the past months), I don't want to put on a strong face and ignore my innermost sympathetic urges. Sometimes I wish I could just hug people. But that wouldn't be professional. There's a fine line, rules to be obeyed, not to be dismissed in the front of feeling.
But back to the matter at hand. Poetry. Why I'm not writing it anymore.
Honestly, while I was in high school, I wrote practically every day. I was more in touch with my innermost self, and yet I was a mystery to myself. I'm even more so now. I feel as though I've lost my touch, my compulsion to put down something important on paper, my desperation for someone to see into my head, and maybe like it, if I was lucky enough for that to happen. I can't remember the last time I posted something to DeviantART, but I think it included the line "God, I'm rusty".
Oh no, that's a lie. It was the snippet of "Ella Rose" that I never finished writing. I'm lazy even in my hobbies! What's the matter with me.
"Like an introvert, I drew my overshirt around my arms and began to shiver violently before you happened to look and see the tunnels all around me, running into the dark underground. All the subways around created great sound." - Owl City, "A Saltwater Room"
Okay I have to end this quick before my fingers fall off.
"All my islands have sunk in the deep and I can hardly relax, or even oversleep." - Owl City, "A Saltwater Room"
