I don't know how 75% of the people who live in Anchorage go camping on Memorial Day Weekend; it just seems like the campgrounds surrounding the dome wouldn't be large enough to accommodate the influx of people.
But, somehow, this weekend has seemed calm, quiet. Swathes of placidity occasionally pierced by birdsong or a float plane. The times when the sun's flashed out at us lends a suffocating optimism. That's Alaskan spring.
Whereas in the winter one feels the darkness and cold taking control of one's emotions, energy, soul - it doesn't matter if you're having the best winter of your life. You'll still feel in thrall to the relative amount of sun you are or are not getting. Winter = sadness/lethargy. Spring = joy/optimism - even if your personal life is in complete disarray.
Maybe it's just because I've passed the halfway mark of my 30's. But even with all the turmoil I've described lately (or, if not described, heavily implied) I just feel sort of like I just can't bother with getting very upset. I mean: I still feel the adrenaline and the racing heart and all the rest, but it's sort of...just not the most important? It's been much easier to hold the long game of surviving in mind versus the drama of the moment.
The Kate-Bushy Women's Work of Not Having the Wherewithal to Fuck With a Nervous Breakdown Due To Being a Mom Basically. But listen to their partner bitch on the phone about how you don't do anything to support them ...except for that time they left for five months...the times that they want to be in bands...or, you know, with the step-kids.
The truth is in the middle, I suppose. Somewhat elevated.
Driving in search of open pools (there were none) this morning I considered doing a Burly-Q piece in which I, a super white lady, rap "Beez In the Trap" dressed as a professor while delivering a Powerpoint presentation on Beez In the Trap ending with twerking (if I can get that together) and some bar graphs showcasing demographic information on Texas, A-Town, Chi-Town, Miami, et al.
My last day is tomorrow. I feel like I'm stepping off a cliff. Specifically one of the ones on Pandora. In Avatar.
One of my favorite things to do (when I remember) is substitute different items you can't start a fire with in "Dancing In the Dark". Because a spark is only part of the picture baby. Guess what else you can't start a fire without? Kindling! Oxygen! Propellant! Friction! Try it next time you're at a party and you wish you could look at your phone but for some reason you can't, and need to look vaguely present.
Reading 4000 Weeks Time Management for Mortals by Oliver Burkeman and it's secretly a philosophy book and I am here for it.
Once I get past 40 my plan is to aim for giving big OC energy. By which I mean Olivia Coleman.
Now. What the fuck am I gonna wear to a rainbow goodbye party? *smacks forehead*
No comments:
Post a Comment