I woke up early today (as in, I could’ve used more sleep but forced myself out of bed) and tried to work. I got a little reading done before my Mum called and we spent 3 hours on the phone talking about our research (she’s doing 4th year speech pathology with a view to working with people with disabilities or dementia) and it tired me out completely.
I had a coffee and sat back down in front of the laptop to try again, but just ended up writing about my trajectory from birth until 2005, where I was first properly introduced to postmodern theatre and performance art.
The words came out, but it just felt empty, like I knew none of this stuff had a chance of making it into my final exegesis. Maybe it was because of the dynamic conversation I’d just had with my Mother, or perhaps it was because of the incredible party I went to on the weekend I still haven’t caught up from, but the words just felt empty. I felt empty.
(Spoiler alert: Saturday night was nuts. I wrestled a giant on AstroTurf, explained penis mechanics to a group of homosexuals, coached a woman through her first MDMA experience, and met a fellow Dreamwalker. At no point did anything seem particularly strange while it was occurring – except meeting another Walker, mainly because neither of us had met another to date in our combined seventy-something years – but in retrospect, the combination of occurrences in a single evening was just bizarre. A very difficult night to wrap the head around and move on from in 48 hours.)
So I went down the street to look at secondhand clothes, and bought a very silly pair of pants to make myself feel a bit better. I did get some productive (active procrastination) things done like email a few people about developments and such, but I can’t shake this slump.
I know it’ll pass, and I know it isn’t a big deal when I have three or four years to put something together. I just have a violent hatred towards wasting time, and this level of downtime feels so counterproductive to the same time last week. It could be as simple as the change out of daylight savings (an allusion to real-time perhaps?) or just the fact I have a lot on my plate and I haven’t yet made a list.
Actually, that’s a good idea. Even in a slump bad enough to be reflected in my posture, a list might straighten things out. And the slump might even help by getting me closer to the laptop screen…