If a cow ever got the chance...

So things are okay. Like everyone else in the known universe, I was at that giant Saturday night blogfest. There seem to be a lot of brilliant supergeniuses in the city of Chicago who have chosen to manifest their abilities in blog form. I was blown away, for the most part, by the wit and quality of the readings. It was solid enough to make me almost forget about my latent claustrophobia/fear of crowds: the number of people up there violated not just fire codes, but basic laws of physics. I had an escape plan involving the front window but didn't end up using it.

Met Apothecary's gorgeous friend and her sexy goth boots, also. We live like five minutes away from each other so I would have asked if she wanted to hang out sometime, but sometime during the reading I had gotten a huge horrible migraine headache and therefore had to leave in the middle of everyone's giant meal at Clarke's, for fear that I would throw up all over the french toast. Then went home and worried about various things.

Getting along really well with C, like life-partner well. Is strange. I always wanted to end up with a sarcastic hipster type in fraying corduroys. He says I am always free to look for one of those if I want to, that our current state of bliss (seriously) exists only as long as we are able to choose each other without coercion, each other out of all the people and possibilities in the world. I say: OK. My reservation is that I don't do anything when we're together. We just sort of lie around and eat stuff and discuss our respective (and completely separate) social lives. But fuck it, maybe it's good to have some down time to sleep and feel loved. If only I could get my brain to stop making lists of all the things I haven't achieved and am continuing to lose my grasp on, RIGHT THIS SECOND, sitting here drinking office coffee and sort of thinking about design samples for my enneagram book. If only I had the discipline to finish what I've started, or to do anything really well. To have something worth quitting my day job for.

Just having one of those what-the-fuck-am-I-doing-with-my-life moments, sorry. Blah blah self-centered. It's actually good when they happen this early in the day, because now maybe I can get some work done. The ones that hit around 4 p.m. are always worse because they've been brewing longer. Like being grateful for having had chicken pox, cause it means you won't get shingles.

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