this is, i guess, more of a post-script to the last letter than an actual new one. i have gotten no further on the afghan, but i have succeeded in wigging myself out even more. i am, in this very singular, late, and emotional moment deciding that yes, i am certain for a fact that i will be dumped on the morrow, and i am allowing for a little bit of pre-grieving before the actual thing because as you know, i did not cry about her leaving to go home until 3 days after she left and i was well & truly alone. (by alone i mean in the parked car, drunk (not driving, just sitting in the backseat alone) and listening to, you guessed it, light my fire by the doors).
and there it was, the very next day, when i found myself in the apartment of none other than my dear-friend-from-high-school's-shitty-ex-boyfriend forking over $31 for a bottle of the cheapest vodka this town has to offer and a few packs of cigarettes. the last time i had a breakdown like this i pulled myself out of it by just repeating that line from the rufus wainwright grey gardens song about "trying to get my mansions green after i've grey gardens seen". and it worked then, i got my mansions green after hitting rock bottom and it lasted pretty well for a few months, but you know what they say, rock bottom is never really the bottom.
and hey, as of this second, i haven't hit rock bottom yet! i still have, at this second, a helluva lot going on for me!
(all of the clown figurines that, as you know, sit on my bookshelf are staring at me as i write this, it's making me put on some sort of weird accent as i type and i genuinely don't think i'm gong to be able to stop it.) in the morning, and i'm telling you this so i actually do it, i am going to take out 2 of the trash bags i have cluttering up this place, and then i'm going to make 3 more of the afghan squares, and then i will work on my day from there. i have to shower, i think. maybe i'll take a fucking candlelit bath.
i wish i could say i was lying when i told you that lately i've been listening to juniper's guy's chants on youtube in the bathroom at work whenever i start to feel a stress headache coming on. i also dearly wish i could tell you it doesn't work, but hey, i'm at that point in my life where i accept spirituality with open arms and yes, it does work on me. if you asked my parents what they thought of that, they'd say i was too old to be going on about that. if you asked some of my friends, they'd say i was too young. the moral of the story is that your spirit is your spirit, and all that.
goodnight, z, i'll talk to you tomorrow
all my love,