I need a hug.
I think more than anything in the world, right now I need a hug.
Date: December 30, 2015
Days Spent on Project: 1043
Location: NW Portland, OR
Person I would have sent it to: TBD
Music I listened to while sewing: Today, in the interest of finding things from the past that make me happy, I turned on the Spotify Playlist for Punchdrunk’s The Drowned Man.
At the time, there was no way in hell that I could have afforded a plane ticket to London and then a hotel and then dog-sitting in New York City and then also tickets for the show, but NOT seeing that production will probably be one of my biggest regrets in Life.
Some times it might be worth it to go further into debt. Just for a memory.
God, and I think about how NOT being able to afford going to London to see that show REALLY WAS the catalyst that made me start questioning everything about my life in New York and what I was doing. That was Fall 2013. I was 34. I was broke and managing to squeak by in life. But I couldn’t even afford to do something like this… something maybe once-in-a-lifetime… something that would have been amazing, simply amazing… and I couldn’t even do it. It upset me. I had no hopes of doing something I felt I wanted.
And it sucked.
That sent me down a path of questioning and rethinking and wondering and criticizing and letting go and… here I am in Portland.
I’m still questioning and rethinking and wondering and criticizing and letting go.
Thoughts/Feelings behind the block: Woke up this morning, crying.
I can’t remember the particulars, despite its vividness, but I had a terrible dream. What woke me was the sight of my French Bulldog sitting in a metal kitchen sink, water dirty and grey, while the faucet kept pouring more and more water into it. For whatever reason, I couldn’t get to him to lift him out, despite being close enough to touch his head. For some reason, the other person next to me, being even closer to my dog, refused to pick him out of the overflowing sink. And my dog, sitting there like he was getting a bath, staring at me with trust- SO MUCH TRUST- in his eyes as the water kept rising and rising and rising and I could hear myself screaming for him to move…
And I woke up.
My French Bulldog was curled up next to my stomach, against a pillow, and partially under my Union Jack comforter. He was snoring. Loudly. He was there.
Today was personally awful. The 8 hours of work devolved from being mildly okay to being excruciatingly painful and emotional. One designer feeling and acted unsupported. One director being upset at our work. One employee of mine lashing out passively-aggressively. Realizing that her energy has infected others. Realizing this employee- someone I thought was on my side- hasn’t been this entire time I’ve been here in Portland.
On my walk home, a car accident happened on I-405 directly above where I was walking on the overpass to get home. I didn’t see it start. I heard it all happen. I saw it finish. One car on its side. Others perpendicular to it. A weird silence, despite rush hour, and a growing crush of cars behind it as they backed off into the distance of Portland and the Freemont Bridge.
Did I just see that? I stopped and stared, trying to see through the tall fencing what was happening, but couldn’t make out much more than that… a car on its side, others nearby, stopping traffic.
After 5 minutes, I kept walking.
Today can end.
I’m drinking wine now. I’m drinking specifically to get tipsy. That is an honest statement.
I haven’t eaten all day, so this will end horribly.
A friend of mine posted a picture on Facebook today: a white background with, in simple New Times Roman Font, the phrase “page 364 of 365” written in the corner.
What kind of surprise ending do you think will happen on that final page of 2015?