Most Justinas Live Lives of Quiet Desperation
So these days consist of sitting in front of the computer coding HTML for a pittance, then swimming in a mad rush to avoid drowning on July 11, then coming home and sitting in front of the computer or the stove or the TV or the laundry machine. I do love my home appliances, I guess.
My friend Rain sounds depressed. Her last email confirmed Thoreau. Most men and women lead lives of quiet desperation. What am I doing with my life? Why am I not doing something else? What does it all mean? Why can't I figure out even one single answer? Just one answer in 30 years, for Christ sake. Even under the Irish whisky hangover her crazy brilliance pokes through. I think she should do something with it besides chasing it with booze.
She writes: "am not really depressed here. actually, am not depressed at all. had a moment yesterday (that lasted about an hour and a half, god help my father...) where realised that am complete failure and there is no good reason why i'm pissing around at part time anything when am 25 and have me health (a very irish thing. nothing else to be happy about? at least you don't have consumption...which, in case you don't have consumption in san fran, is not a capitalist disease, but something of the lung. slow and painful. think angela's ashes...) anyhow, said moment passed (unlike consumption...well, not unlike consumption really, but passed without my demise, so therefore unlike consumption....) and now am happy out being a waster again."
Brilliant indeed. Makes her life seem far more romantic than mine even though we're both pissing around equally hard. Anxiety is that creepy hovering shadow all around me. What am I doing with my life, really. Saturday was a good day not just because I didn't drown in the lake, but for the small wisdoms I took away from four sweltering hours in the car. Alissa recommended taking the next five years or so to do the Peace Corps and try jobs in different public health areas. At some point it will become very obvious exactly where my interests lie, she said.
"I'll be halfway to 40 by then!" I sighed.
"Don't even sweat it," she said. "It's far better than committing to years doing something you're not sure you really want to be doing." The same old thing you hear your whole life, and yet it's like hearing it for the first time.
"Oh. Wow. Never thought of it that way."
Anxiety about chaos theory. Mom needs dentures and Dad might too. Not only am I getting old in years, I'm getting old in body. Perhaps I'm just reacting to recently witnessing the consequences of Mom and Dad's less than stellar oral hygeine practices, but it's really time to start flossing. Time to stop skipping the nightime brushing once a week. Dentists are such scam artists. They always thank you for coming in for xrays and then tell you that sorry, the oral hygienist isn't here today so you'll have to reschedule your cleaning.
"But wait, this is my annual checkup that includes a cleaning."
"Sorry, you'll have to come back. And by the way, you have nine new cavities. We'll have to fill those next time."
"But I was just here six months ago and you said I didn't have any cavities."
"Well, we should put in fillings just in case. Do you have insurance? Each filling is $800."
My friend Rain sounds depressed. Her last email confirmed Thoreau. Most men and women lead lives of quiet desperation. What am I doing with my life? Why am I not doing something else? What does it all mean? Why can't I figure out even one single answer? Just one answer in 30 years, for Christ sake. Even under the Irish whisky hangover her crazy brilliance pokes through. I think she should do something with it besides chasing it with booze.
She writes: "am not really depressed here. actually, am not depressed at all. had a moment yesterday (that lasted about an hour and a half, god help my father...) where realised that am complete failure and there is no good reason why i'm pissing around at part time anything when am 25 and have me health (a very irish thing. nothing else to be happy about? at least you don't have consumption...which, in case you don't have consumption in san fran, is not a capitalist disease, but something of the lung. slow and painful. think angela's ashes...) anyhow, said moment passed (unlike consumption...well, not unlike consumption really, but passed without my demise, so therefore unlike consumption....) and now am happy out being a waster again."
Brilliant indeed. Makes her life seem far more romantic than mine even though we're both pissing around equally hard. Anxiety is that creepy hovering shadow all around me. What am I doing with my life, really. Saturday was a good day not just because I didn't drown in the lake, but for the small wisdoms I took away from four sweltering hours in the car. Alissa recommended taking the next five years or so to do the Peace Corps and try jobs in different public health areas. At some point it will become very obvious exactly where my interests lie, she said.
"I'll be halfway to 40 by then!" I sighed.
"Don't even sweat it," she said. "It's far better than committing to years doing something you're not sure you really want to be doing." The same old thing you hear your whole life, and yet it's like hearing it for the first time.
"Oh. Wow. Never thought of it that way."
Anxiety about chaos theory. Mom needs dentures and Dad might too. Not only am I getting old in years, I'm getting old in body. Perhaps I'm just reacting to recently witnessing the consequences of Mom and Dad's less than stellar oral hygeine practices, but it's really time to start flossing. Time to stop skipping the nightime brushing once a week. Dentists are such scam artists. They always thank you for coming in for xrays and then tell you that sorry, the oral hygienist isn't here today so you'll have to reschedule your cleaning.
"But wait, this is my annual checkup that includes a cleaning."
"Sorry, you'll have to come back. And by the way, you have nine new cavities. We'll have to fill those next time."
"But I was just here six months ago and you said I didn't have any cavities."
"Well, we should put in fillings just in case. Do you have insurance? Each filling is $800."
posted by Justina at 11:50 PM
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