For a whole lot of reasons, some much better than others, I’ve been in a state of depression-induced inertia. I stare at the computer, I eat iced animals, I stare at the computer, I eat iced animals, I think about how bad it is to do nothing but stare at the computer and eat iced animals. As you do.
I looked at my kitchen the other day, really looked, through the invisibility cloak of crap that surrounds my entire house. And I thought: this is a disgrace and Ufyh says there’s no reason why I can’t do a little to unfuck this.
Yes, a can of spray paint and a lint roller and my mail andRailseaand a towel, all parked on my enormous stove. Tony the Tiger leers from the lower right corner, wondering why I’m saving a box with roughly 1/8 cup of crumbled month-old froster flakes.
Because I wanted to use my stove to make mac & cheese, and I knew I’d keep unfucking while the water boiled, etc, I set my microwave timer for 15 minutes. I couldn’t find my actual timer, the one that rings and gives me heart palpitations at its loudness.
Fifteen minutes later, this is what it looked like. And hey, there’s my timer!!!
So I put on a pot of water to boil, then to cook my mac & cheese, and carried on. Maybe 15 minutes later:
Still messy, sure. Butusable! I can get to the burners without risking a massive fire. No more cans of spray paint. Lint roller’s still there, but my kitchen door (at the left edge of this photo) is my main entrance and exit, and I often need to rollerbrush myself before I go out the door.
I did another 20 of dishwashing this evening. I had done a mass of dishes yesterday, and when I brought today’s dishes down to the kitchen, I thought: “don’t just add these to the pile - soon it’ll be icky and gross and unmanageable.” So I did 20 minutes of dishwashing, accompanied by the shrill timer and some old school music: The Cure, Annie Lennox (Eurythmics era), Cocteau Twins.
Tomorrow, I take my car to the carshop to try to get my driver side window fixed - it’s rolled down and the mechanism for rolling it back up (it’s manual, not automatic) is broken. Has been broken for over two weeks. During which time I stared at the computer and ate iced animals.
Some unfuckitude is going on here, and it feels good. Maybe I’ll be able to kick this bout of de-functionalizing depression soon, and actually use my remaining weeks of summer to good purpose. (ie, hi dissertation! and how about going back to swimmy class?)