Day 22--Slump

Part1

Getting called out sucks.  And I have been called out more times by more people than I'd like to admit who are worried about me.  My lack of direction.  My lack of social interactions, and the quality of the interactions that I am getting out here.  My desire to sleep so much of the day.  Is living with a boyfriend working out like it should?  You caught me.  I am a little blue. 

The way I see it, I'm just taking a little longer than I thought.  Once I get a job I'll have something to do during the day, people to hang out with, money to join clubs or yoga, and a steady income to move out and find roommates I click with.  I'm getting there.  Just slowly.  I don't really want to get a job until after the family reunion trip ends on July 5th.  I'd feel weird getting a job just to leave it for a week, or tell them that I can't work until weeks later. 

So today I'm forcing myself to get out of the house and just...find stuff to do.  I tried calling old friends, I might meet up with one later tonight or tomorrow, I plan on going by Target to exchange a shirt, maybe buy the shuffle, maybe hit up a one of my favorite bookshops, and definitely get a vanilla latte along the way.  Until then!
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Part 2

Sometimes, if I'm really lucky, cracking open a new book releases a rush of thoughts and memories of times and places I have long ago forgotten--some of those places real and others engraved in my imagination. 

I'm sitting comfortably here with an Oakland A's blanket over my legs with a 1976 copy of A Connecticut Yankee at King Arthur's Court.  I haven't made it past the introduction yet, but I'm giddy to read over the names Clemens, Concord, and Confederate for the first time in ages.  The Romantics nearly killed my interest in America (thanks, Emerson), but tonight's reading feels as cozy as Rip Van Wrinkle's nap.

I'm glad I got out of the house today.  I've said this many times in the past, but if you asked me my favorite place to be, it's my car. More specifically, my car after a car wash, going about 70mph with music blaring through open windows.  It's really therapeutic to feel that sort of movement of going somewhere fast--even if there is no destination.

I ended up at a dusty book shop with stacks up to the ceilings and two books deep in each shelf.  I almost left with some Stevenson and obscure travel literature, but decided on Twain for now.

I went to Target and looked around, and ended up buying a shirt in one of the stores of the adjacent malls.

Home again and some Food Network.  Dinner splitting crepes and listening to crappy but happy live folk music. 

Well this entry has officially gone into rambling so I'm off.  I'll try to have more structure in the next entry.