alright then. it's been almost four days since i smoked. and it's not really all that bad. i did, admittedly dream of smoking on friday night, but then so did roommate c. and he's broken down and smoked a fat joint already. bastard. he was supposed to take a sabbatical with me.
it's really not all that much different. except i notice everything now, and it all bothers me. everyone ahead of me in line at walgreens just instantly pisses me off. people on the bus. the headlines in the paper. all make me angry to the point of despair. but that could have been low blood sugar too....
this weekend wound up feeling like it never even happened. i went to hang out with old coworkers, got smashed and woke up terrified of the anticipated hangover. it wasn't that bad, which was good because i had to go to a memorial service for a coworker who was murdered about a month ago and that was too heavy a thing to be hung over for. it was hard to be there, with the kids in their fancy clothes and black velvet dresses running around like it was any other day and the hippy women way past their prime singing songs in brocade dresses and broken down faces, flowers stuffed everywhere.
eh. i'd like to write more, but my hands have no patience to explain the details.
i should go to cafe abir and write. i don't know why i haven't. a man called my work today to complain about a vendor. "i'm 60 and i don't like change" he muttered at me. i wanted to tell him, 'i'm 27 and i don't like it either but at least i try to handle it with some grace. stop acting like a fucking five year old' geez. i have no patience right now for complaints. which is really all i hear about at work, and this is where the non-smoking policy is certainly having its influence felt.
roommate b is talking about moving to portland, a move i mostly support despite the fact that the idea leaves me bitter, jealous and a little scornful. i think part of me wants to tell her not to be fooled by location changes, and that she never really tried all that hard here so why would portland be different? but maybe it would be for her. part of me wants to move too. have something new to stare at out of a bus window. and part of me just doesn't want to see one more friend move away.
she and i and roommate e have all decided that we have been living in utter filth for too long. so the dirty state of my house is just another thing that is driving me nuts, because now that i'm not stoned, i notice it more. in march, when all of the couch crashers' are kicked out, we need to do some serious spring cleaning. 'why wait until march?' she asks. in truth, we could start now, but the idea of taking a day off, with all the roommies, and cleaning the fuck outta this nasty place is very appealing. it will be easier when all the couch crashers' shit is outta the way too. and i don't mind having an opendoor policy for the house, but it gets old eventually. i used to be scared to be in this house by myself, because it felt weird if there was no one but me here. and i get scared sometimes that someone will break in. that's fading lately, which is nice. when roommate b came home last night, i actually wanted it quiet. i wouldn't have minded being alone. which is new for me.
the toilet is backed up. roommate c put a sign on the door that says "everything bad you ever did is in this bathroom" which is a fairly accurate assessment. there's also mold underneath bubbling and peeling paint (there was a long term leak) in that bathroom. the fireplace is broken, so let's hope this warm front sticks around until it's fixed. and roommate c's light is broken again, so he's using mine.
i have a vicodin somewhere and taking it is starting to sound like an option.
tomorrow is a friends birthday. i guess we're gonna go drink somewhere. trying hard to divide my time between the "responsibilities" of my life and the stuff i actually give a shit about.
trying not to give up on the dreams i've got left.
trying not to look at a certain maestro as he walks away at the zeigtgeist with a new girlfriend. that hurt, that's for sure. let's not talk about the dreams i have about that one, the jones i've got for that kid is incredible.
lastly, and not least, i'm wearing a tshirt with a picture of a kitten that says "kitten thinks of nothing but murder all day"
this makes me feel a little better.

i have decided, after much deliberation and some excessive justification that bordered on an junkie begging for one more fix, to stop smoking pot for a week. today is day one.
let me explain a few things, just so we're all on the same page here. i love marijuana. it's awesome. it makes me laugh, makes shitty movies amusing, makes me eat when i have no appetite (something i have relied on to keep my weight above 100lbs.), makes me sleep better, makes me easier to deal with because i'm amused, taps a creative side, allows me to live with Roommate C without hovering over him in the night wondering if i could smother him, lets me have incredible long ranting conversations that end in nearly-painful laughter. etc. etc. etc.
but i've been smoking pot almost every day for the last four years. i've got a constant problem with grogginess and being tired. i'm out of it a lot. i eat fucking junk food. i'm lazy and unmotivated to begin with and this isn't helping. and so, in the spirit of 2007's ephiphanies and relevations, i'm gonna give myself a break for a week.
just to see what happens. maybe nothing. maybe i'll get a lot of shit done. maybe i'll write more. maybe i'm gonna be the crankiest bitch ever and all my friends will protest my non-pot smoking policies with signs outside my window. but i've come to the recent conclusion that, even though i am a creature of habit, it is well past time to enact some change in my life. too much of my time is just .... up in smoke (in both senses of the phrase). too much of my time is spent doing things that meet other peoples needs, too much is spent shuttling my bones from one fucking box called home to a box on wheels (bus) to the box that allows me to pay for the first box (work). and it's too routine and boring and lame and i feel like a fucking yuppie burnout who works a job she hates, comes home, drinks to oblivion, kicks the dog, and goes to bed to start the whole damn thing over again.
so. this year is different. this year is about doing different things, breaking routines and habits, and examining what i really need and what i need to do to get those things. henceforth, let's take a break from the bud.
and i'm not saying that when i crawled out of bed this morning at 7:30am with a mild-zeitgeist induced headache that i wasn't tempted to smoke a little, just to get rid of the hangover. but i didn't. we'll see how the rest of the week goes. i used to have tremendous willpower, and i'm not too worried. Roommate C has decided to join me on this venture, which should make it easier. i just want to see what happens really, and this fits right in with my whole habit-breaking, doing-things-for-me master plan.
however, i'm fully anticipating the boyfriend saying something. and i really don't want to hear about it from him. we've been having some heavy discussions lately about drugs (more on that at a later date). and i certainly don't want him to think that i'm doing this for him or because of him. he's been giving me shit, and making snarky comments about my hashy habit for a while and i don't fucking appreciate it. hmmm... but that's a whole conversation i should probably be having with him, instead of blogging about so we'll leave that one alone just for now.
developments will be forthcoming.