I can feel my brain melting. My brain and too much school has the same exact reaction cornstarch and water have when mixed together. If you dissected me right this very moment and picked my brain up with your hands the material would seem substantial and solid at first. Then, after a moment would pass, the grey substance would start to leak through your fingers. It would slide down your wrist and dribble into the bowl that is hopefully beneath your hands in order to catch the inevitable mess that occurs when one is opening up another human being. My sister would understand. She’s a mortician.
This is my excuse for not writing since…
Anyway, school is not really the problem. It’s a case of what the Frontier Psychiatrist would call Psychosomatic. My brain is tired and therefore my body is tired and therefore therefore therefore. It’s a vicious cycle that everyone is familiar with and everyone has overcome, but the problem always lies in finding something to pry me out of my funk.
Tonight I voluntarily washed the dishes for three hours straight at work because I didn’t want to interact with costumers or coworkers. Mind you I almost always have to wash the dishes for three hours straight when I’m closing, but this time I almost enjoyed myself. There’s a very ashamed part of me that absolutely adores mindless tasks. When I worked for my brother I would always ask if he needed me to put stamps and return addresses on the hundreds of envelopes and pretend it was just because I was an eager worker. The mind can wander when my hands move methodically and automatically, and instead of having to listen to people’s complaints or wants (because it’s never needs) I can listen to my own complaints and wants. It’s a glorious and draining experience, cause geez do I complain a lot. However, no one is more sympathetic to my trials and tribulations than myself, so I just let myself yammer on and on in my head while I clean out the deep fryer.
To be perfectly fair to this life we call life, it has only been the last three days that have been particularly unmotivated on my part. I’ve been spinning a bunch of plates all this year and this week people keep on plucking these plates off of my spinning stick thing and telling me “hey, you don’t need to spin this plate anymore”, or “this plate has been replaced with a much smaller and dumber saucer”. Now I have nothing to spin and it’s driving me insane! Sometimes a girl just needs to spin some damn plates! In other words, I need all these stimulating projects along with my mindless tasks I have to do at Oakes Café or else I will become mindless. A zombie working at Oakes Café would hardly be noticed among the Oakes employees, but I’ve seen enough Will Smith movies to know that zombies never last long before they’re shot 40 times in the chest and burned in a pile of rotting flesh.
I’m starting to lose my metaphor…
Ah yes!
I need to suck it up and get it together.
