Skip to main content

I'm up early, for once.

Yeah, I've written about it before--the wanting-to-get-up-early thing. So I'll be brief, or try.

So I ostensibly like getting up early. It's a good time for doing things. Practically nothing is ever planned before 11ish so it's good me-time. I've also got a clear head and (mostly) high energy levels. But I usually get lazy/indulgent and go back to sleep when I don't have to be up right away for anything in particular (and sometimes even when I do...).

Am I robbing me of my me-time? Well, yes and no. Sometimes I fill that time with more indulgent me-time--porn, okcupid/dudesnude, facebook, lord knows what else. Normally, I'd want to spend this time writing or reading the news or blogging or just preparing for the day.

Not so likely, especially lately--I've been sleeping in or wanking early far more than is necessary. Can't porn or okcupid or whatever wait until the end of the day? isn't it just as easy to wack off before bed as after?

So, why?

It boils down to, and likely always has, worry. Either sleeping or wanking or just otherwise goofing off is a quick escape from even the slightest worry; it's semi-automatic, really. My slightly OCD brain can freak out without even realizing it, at least enough to make the comparative relief of a bit more sleep or a "quick" jo seductive. And what starts off as "just a bit" always morphs into "I don't know what happened; I lost track of time".

I just spaced out a moment, thinking through the morning to come, how I would like it to go versus how I'd like it to go. Part of me wants to go look at hot guys after finishing this post, as though having accomplished something. Part of me wants to go get some oatmeal and read up on the day's news or workout. I have to be outta here by 11 for a lunch thing, and I know how certain things I want  to do--almost feel entitled to do--will probably make me run late as I lose track of time. As usual.

And....--damnit, this is hard--I don't want to be that person anymore. Unreliable. Over-indulgent and under-fulfilled. I say that kinda stuff a lot though. It's tough because it requires work to change, while the usual status quo--especially this status quo--requires or seems to require so little. But it's childish, and I'm supposed to be some kind of grownup.


Other things that might interest you...

QP: Changes to come, I hope.

My grandmother passed away about 2 weeks ago. I hope to write about her more soon, but for this moment, I want to speak briefly about where I'm at overall: Her passing has led me to reevaluate aspects of my life because I'm realizing that the status quo amounts to just wasting my life away. (This is another "quick post," which means it's a short update that I likely didn't edit and revise quite as much as the more "thoughtful" pieces I aim for. I say this because I'm self-conscious and worry that you, my reader, will judge me!) I'm up in Boston and have today and tomorrow off, and I want to spend at least a portion of each day figuring out (some of) my life. I say this fully aware how often I've variously done so before: asserted a need for change, described how I was going to do it, made an attempt, then fallen off in the follow-through. I'm honestly not sure what to do about that, though. It frustrates me now just as much as eve

This moment: A tattoo.

So I read Mrs. Dalloway in high school, and it was perhaps the most beautiful thing I'd ever read. One passage in particular, very early in the book, hit me hard with my first experience of the sublime, and stayed with me—and led at last to my first tattoo. In people’s eyes, in the swing, tramp, and trudge; in the bellow and the uproar; the carriages, motor cars, omnibuses, vans, sandwich men shuffling and swinging; brass bands; barrel organs; in the triumph and the jingle and the strange high singing of some aeroplane overhead was what she loved; life; London; this moment of June .  ( Emphasis added; full paragraph included below. From the full text of the novel as made available by the University of Adelaide. ) The paragraph this is from, the 4th paragraph of the novel, is the 1st passage with the stream of consciousness the book is famous for; although self-limited here, the flow is no less gorgeous. In the passage, Clarissa is walking on a street to get those famous fl

Revamp, pt 1.

I decided I want to dig in and take this blog, and more broadly the "Palmerpink Brand" as it were, more seriously. Ok, maybe not that  seriously, but yeah. I wrote up a larger exploration on my other blog of initial questions to lay out some basic considerations regarding a revamp, asking things like the What, Who, and Why of this blog. Some of these things I'd explored previously , but I wanted to dig into deeper this time around. In short, I want to use this blog to share things I find meaningful and hope others will be interested in, as well as reflections and updates about my life; I want to write for myself, but also people who care about me and/or the sorts of things I share about (eg, reviews about culture and such); and I want to commit to my voice mattering, to deciding my blog matters to whatever little degree it can. (I also floated the possibility of culling posts that are no longer representative of what I want in this blog, as well as any stupid lab