Sometimes I channel Martha Stewart. I google for DIY carpet cleaning solutions, cook Italian, redecorate rooms, fix tears in cushions.
Sometimes I channel Virginia Woolf. I read Jezebel and shake my fist at the world, I write inflammatory posts and delete them because I dont think the world is ready for me, I pick arguments with friends and smile as I tear them up.
Sometimes I channel crazy party girl. I drink till I'm almost sick, I dance on chairs and fall off them.
Sometimes I channel calm and content woman. I build a fire at the fireplace, I pull my beanbag over and sit in it with a book.
Sometimes I channel the classy socialite.
Sometimes I channel the whiny, needy friend.
Sometimes I channel the lets-do-it-all-yolo yuppie.
Sometimes I channel all at once.
Sometimes I dont know what I am. And thence are these moments of dissatisfaction- where I go through my entire contact list to find all my friends busy and finally give up and load the washer for lack of a better thing to do, where I leave a party early so I can come home and curl up in my bed to my friends' eternal confusion, where I play the Beatles on my guitar at midnight hoping the neighbors are out of town.
I am lounging on my bed, all dressed up for a night out on town, with my new hair highlights and my in-your-face Russian Red lipstick, bored and irritated, listening to my laundry swirl, staring at the books next to me- all of them great, none of them interesting now- wondering if I should eat.
Sometimes I channel Virginia Woolf. I read Jezebel and shake my fist at the world, I write inflammatory posts and delete them because I dont think the world is ready for me, I pick arguments with friends and smile as I tear them up.
Sometimes I channel crazy party girl. I drink till I'm almost sick, I dance on chairs and fall off them.
Sometimes I channel calm and content woman. I build a fire at the fireplace, I pull my beanbag over and sit in it with a book.
Sometimes I channel the classy socialite.
Sometimes I channel the whiny, needy friend.
Sometimes I channel the lets-do-it-all-yolo yuppie.
Sometimes I channel all at once.
Sometimes I dont know what I am. And thence are these moments of dissatisfaction- where I go through my entire contact list to find all my friends busy and finally give up and load the washer for lack of a better thing to do, where I leave a party early so I can come home and curl up in my bed to my friends' eternal confusion, where I play the Beatles on my guitar at midnight hoping the neighbors are out of town.
I am lounging on my bed, all dressed up for a night out on town, with my new hair highlights and my in-your-face Russian Red lipstick, bored and irritated, listening to my laundry swirl, staring at the books next to me- all of them great, none of them interesting now- wondering if I should eat.
