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I had a week off and it was weird. I mean...I love this time of year. I always take vacation time around it--in fact, I've got another week off after Thanksgiving where I'm going away. But this was a weird week. I felt...not depressed, exactly, just sort of vulnerable or not quite happy? I kept having these dreams...like on Monday I dreamt I'd gone to South Carolina (??) for the week and then realized, "What am I doing here? I have that lunch with the S editors on Wednesday! I have to get back!" Then I realized it was a dream and if I opened my eyes I'd be back in my own bed. So I did. And I was still in South Carolina. Yes, it was a dream within a dream. Finally I woke up for real in my own bed, with a splitting headache and my period. Lovely. Then the next morning I had some sad dream about not ever having children.
I dream about children a lot. Having them, I mean. For a while it was always my roommate who was having them in the dream, but now I'm the one who gets pregnant and has kids. I don't think they're literally about children, though. They're probably about the creation process in general. This dream, I think, had something to do with never producing anything of worth creatively and that feeling's hung over me all week. ( More of me whining about the week. )
One thing I did do was rent movies--three movies everybody else probably saw last year and I missed, so ( here's my thoughts on them. )
Also, I am wearing about 8 layers of clothing and a scarf. The violent winds are whistling through the apartment even though the windows are all closed because the walls are full of cracks. I think of it as the Bob Cratchitt-effect, with me pounding away at my computer while my fingers and nose get red from the cold.
I shall now clean my room. Dust it, vacuum it, get the piles of papers and notes off the floor, and light some nice incense. Better yet I'll light my aromatherapy thingie with the wintery oil. I feel this should inspire me to new levels of creativity and appease the Gods of Suck.
Return of the King is going to kill me, btw. What am I going to do next December with no more LOTR movies to look forward too? It's become as much a part of this time of year as the leaves and the wind whistling through the holes in the walls.
I dream about children a lot. Having them, I mean. For a while it was always my roommate who was having them in the dream, but now I'm the one who gets pregnant and has kids. I don't think they're literally about children, though. They're probably about the creation process in general. This dream, I think, had something to do with never producing anything of worth creatively and that feeling's hung over me all week. ( More of me whining about the week. )
One thing I did do was rent movies--three movies everybody else probably saw last year and I missed, so ( here's my thoughts on them. )
Also, I am wearing about 8 layers of clothing and a scarf. The violent winds are whistling through the apartment even though the windows are all closed because the walls are full of cracks. I think of it as the Bob Cratchitt-effect, with me pounding away at my computer while my fingers and nose get red from the cold.
I shall now clean my room. Dust it, vacuum it, get the piles of papers and notes off the floor, and light some nice incense. Better yet I'll light my aromatherapy thingie with the wintery oil. I feel this should inspire me to new levels of creativity and appease the Gods of Suck.
Return of the King is going to kill me, btw. What am I going to do next December with no more LOTR movies to look forward too? It's become as much a part of this time of year as the leaves and the wind whistling through the holes in the walls.
