Right Now

I am humming a made-up song called “Procrastination” set to the tune of Rod Stewart’s, “Infatuation.”

I walked down the street today listening to “You Spin Me Right Round” on my ipod, and I was very impressed with myself that I was walking to the beat exactly but no one would think anything out of the ordinary if they saw me. Or at least no one shouted, “Stop walking to the beat. You look like you have a load in your pants.”

I am packing up my apartment. I have no sentimental feelings about leaving this place. I can hear a terrible band playing right now at Boardner’s and that is Reason #87 why I’m happy to be leaving this place.

I’m terrified of a scene in a movie I saw last week. I don’t even want to write about it, for fear it will spark people to comment on it on this blog and I’ll read the comments when it’s finally off of my mind and have to get scared all over again. I saw a movie last week that was a dark comedy, and whether it acheived either is debatable, but there was a subplot that involved a rather bulgy-eyed psycho old man and I can’t stop seeing his face or thinking he’s peeking in the crack of the bathroom door while I shower and so I have to get up and look around while I shower. I mean leave the bathroom and walk around making sure he’s not in my apartment. Yes, the doors are locked and chained. But if a fictional character can show up in my apartment, I figure he can penetrate locks.

I just realized I’ve never closed my bathroom door once. I was too lazy to install the towel holder on my wall and I throw my towels over the door. I don’t think shutting it and locking it would prevent me from being scared. In fact, it would prevent me from hearing anything in the other room. I have to stop writing about this or else I’m going to get so scared that I’m going to have to get in my car and drive to the Valley to stay with my boyfriend tonight. And although he’s lovely and what a treat that would be, I don’t want to commute from their in the a.m. So I have to stop. STOP!

Are you supposed to tip when you get a to-go order? I feel like I’m not. No one is setting my place, clearing it, etc. The waitress was frazzled and I could tell was having problems with the register and finding “one’s.” So she asked me if I needed change on an $8.66 bill and I gave her a ten and said, “No.” But asking if I need change is just saying, “Are you going to tip me?” When I worked in restaurants, we never got tipped on the to-go orders but maybe because I was always short with to-go customers, assuming that they won’t tip, and I invented my own myth and consequence.

I wonder why I bother being spiritual when it’s so tedious and time-consuming? I guess because I feel it in my bones when I’m not. I wonder how some people are not and it doesn’t dawn on them to be and they attract much success in the universe. They might naturally have answers that I’m still searching for. Less self-torture.

I wonder why I’m not preparing my set for CDR this Tuesday night? I think I’ll go do that now. Gonna do some new stuff. It will either be funny or self-sabotage. I wasn’t before, but I’m also afraid of the day June 6th, 2006 (you know, 6.6.06) It seems others are making a big deal of it. Usually I’m the one freaking out about everything. So when others are and I’m not, I feel like something dreadful will happen. Although I suppose it already is, what with our world leaders ass-raping us. I just am afraid of a big devil popping out of the ground on Tuesday. But if that does happen hopefully I’ll have a moment of, “Wow. That is a really ridiculous site. If I am not killed by the devil, I can blog about this later.”

I do want to see an Inconvenient Truth. I’m trying to find a convenient time where I can panic freely for about 3-5 hours after.

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