Wednesday, September 24, 2008


A left on Monday night. It was all very hectic. I met her on Queen Street for some last minute shopping and to pick up sushi from Crispy Roll and then we went back to her place to have dinner with her parents and another friend. At 8 pm, I had to pack her suitcase. I even went through her dirty laundry. Ick. She left at 9.30 pm and I drove home the long way. She called from the airport at 11.30 pm and it was all I could do not to cry. The void is back. It is big and dark and empty. I just spent 02:04:21 on the phone with her so I suppose I shouldn't complain too much.

It has been two weeks since I emailed Captain W about the whole facebook deleting thing and I still don't have my book back. I'm debating leaving a voice mail about mid day on Thursday when I know he will be at school. It will go something like this:

"Hi Captain W. It's [me]. It's been a couple of weeks since I asked you to return my book and I still haven't heard anything. I'm assuming that the reason you haven't returned it is that you broke both your legs and that the reason you haven't let me know when you're planning to return it is... you broke both your hands? It would be good if you could get someone else, say, your brother perhaps to send me an email letting me known when the casts are coming off? It's just that it was a gift from a friend and has some sentimental value attached. Also, I need it back so I can pick out the gentlemen from the duds. Thanks."

I wake up every morning overwhelmed at having to spend another 6 months at grad school. Realistically it could be substantially less than that. But I'm scared that I'll be in debt and freezing in March, unable to afford groceries or chocolate grappy and that all of my friends will have abandoned me in my misery.

I emailed The Kid yesterday and came up with this. It might have been an epiphany.

I feel as though I should have been more productive but actually I threw together a Table of Contents and an outline for my experimental methodology section and fired those off to my supervisors. Sometimes I wonder whether thinking about my thesis counts as actually sitting at my desk working on it. Most of the time, I feel guilty that I'm just sitting and thinking and watching mindless CSI reruns instead of actually sitting here forcing myself to spout words from the ends of my finger tips. But I'm starting to realize that's a major part of the writing process. I could be a lot more disciplined about my approach but I find that walking away from something and letting my subconscious work on it for a while is often much more efficient than sitting here staring at my monitor and facebook stalking my friends while pretending to work. I think the consultant mindset that requires me to produce something tangible in 15 minute increments is counterproductive to thesis-related work.

And I have a plan to turn off my conscious mind at least twice a week. Without Grey or his herbs. I'm thinking about signing up for the shoe tag fitness classes at the gym. With Cardio Camp on Monday or Wednesday and boxing on Thursday, that should be at least two nights a week that I pass out before 4 am. I went to pilates today but, although I was very sweaty, I'm not exhausted. And yoga, while fabulous, is more energizing than relaxing. I'm scared though. I haven't boxed since 2002. I wonder if I still have my wraps.


Asshat said...

I like the message to Wiggles. It's sweet yet vicious, and I like the simmering sarcasm in its reference to "telling the gentlemen from the duds." It shows more creativity than he's worth, I think.

Elusive Butterfly said...

I heart you Asshat. You always make me feel better.

Anonymous said...

What IS it with the 'freakin silent treatment thing going around? Geez.

Elusive Butterfly said...

I.KNOW! Jeez.