Wednesday, March 05, 2008

Tales of Carbon Monoxide

I find myself at my house less and less these days, thanks to my own personal Latch Key program, also known as my boyfriend. When I am at my house, I'm tucked away in my "lair", tooling around on the internet, getting ready for work, doing laundry... Things that do not require my presence at the front of the house, which is maybe why I have the little bit of motivation it takes to do the things that construct my life. I suspect that some sort of a carbon monoxide leak is happening in the front of my house, ergo whenever I come home my family is mimicking the lives of house cats: sleep, eat, play (which equals watching TV), repeat. I really do think some sort of a gas leak must be the culprit.

I get it. I do. When I moved backed to Ruidoso from El Paso last April, I was (as Amanda has me saying) in a "bad way." Although I don't think I slept any more than normal (P.S. my "normal" is like nine hours... seriously), I think I had a daily routine of television and just hanging out, but that got old after about a week. I went and got my old job back, started jogging again, had my usual conversations with friends abroad via the computer and phone, etc. That's when I stop getting it. After two weeks of being a zombie, don't most people start to get stir crazy and need something other than programs hosted by Bill Kurtis to fill their days?

It's not like I do anything important, either. I'm not running marathons, or curing the HIV, or devising a plan to eradicate hunger worldwide. Monday I spent two hours at the tire place to find out I have to buy two new tires for my Jeep (while writing in my Moleskine about living with crazy people, which I have deduced I am really, really good at). I go to work every other day. On days off I run errands, go to the ever-popular shopping mecca of Ruidoso (Wal-Mart), have a meal or two with my beau, yog if the weather's nice, paint the lair... things like that.

But coming here, where narcolepsy reigns supreme, disrupts my well being for a few moments out of every day. How to motivate people, though? I'm not very good at motivating anyone by means that do not include "Dr. Philling" them, because I think most things are incredibly obvious (unless you're dealing with people who communicate on a purely metaphorical level daily). Por ejemplo, if you know you're not happy, don't you usually know why? Don't you know what could probably make it better, whether it's getting a pet, or exercising more, or finding a new job, or buying a new bag, or keeping your distance from crazy people? Someone send me a link for a book about lighting a fire under someone's ass without simultaneously destroying the shred of self-esteem they may or may not have left...

I am going to stop now. Before I become one of those idiots who blogs about their life as if other people actually give a shit. For some reason I have nothing interesting to say. :)


Sack said...

Ah, what a glorious day. I have rediscovered your blog, and will assuredly spend every moment necessary absorbing what has yet to have been read.

Then I will probably unload another grogan. Coffee is a great laxative, you know.

Sarah said...

'Tis truly a more glorious day post reading the good news of your "grogan".

I hope you upload a picture of a donkey for your photo on Blogger.