Saturday morning in New York City, and it is COLD outside.
Spring has put off her arrival, sadly.
Date: March 16, 2013
Location: Apartment, Washington Heights, NYC
Person I would have sent it to: my grandmother, Millie.
Music I listened to while sewing: Spotify Success! Found a playlist called “Lounge” that was exactly what I needed after another restless night. It’s chill, ambient, not too distracting, and new. With the exception of Goldfrapp, I haven’t recognized any of the artists (or lyrics), so it’s been a nice addition to the day. I feel like my one bedroom apartment is a very trendy nightspot right now: imagine me sipping a drink in a dimly night, wonderfully designed New York hot spot, dressed ever so trendily…
If I ever did that sort of thing. (Because the reality found me sitting at an old desk, piecing together fabric, sipping some flavored coffee, wearing an old [worn out] sweatshirt from H&M while The Dog was snoring from his bed.)
Thoughts/Feelings behind the block: In an effort to help myself get to bed, I had some wine last night. I need to admit to myself and the world that this “solution” to my sleep issues DOES NOT WORK. I know this, but I keep trying. And the next morning, being in my mid-30s, I always woke up feeling less rested than usual and groggy and certainly without any kind of spring in my step.
And today I woke up after a most upsetting dream. For some reason, I was in a (hospital? prison?) bed, but positioned squarely in the middle of a labyrinthian corridor in a very generic Any-Town American Mall. Guards or Nurses or Attendants or Friends (?) were behind me. I distinctly remember seeing my parents exiting one store, turning in my direction, and start to walk towards me. The people behind me took note of this. I reassured them that my parents were indeed coming over to me. My parents looked in my general direction, STARED, and walked past me and the group behind me.
Writing that down, the anxiety behind it seems to be pretty obvious. Yikes.
I’m going to use this post to remind myself that I am my own person and, usually, feel fully independent. There are people in my life. While I do wish they were more people that actively were engaged with my life, I realize that I can’t sit by (observant) and wait for them to engage with me.
I need to engage them.
We all need to engage.
Tonight I’m off with a friend to see the Classic Stage Company’s production of Passion. I’m very excited.
Enjoy your Saturdays, everyone.