It was 96 degrees here last week; today it was 39. That’s pathetic. Of course being in the country makes you more sensitive to it, but come ON for christ’s sake! What’s worse is that half of the garden naturally assumed that it was summer, and started to bloom and tonight a nice 30-degree freeze is probably going to kill it. I thought the Celexa was supposed to suppress my rage at inanimate objects like the weather, but I suppose that’s something that happens in Week 3.
I sent out an email to ex-Pink House residents asking them to describe their favorite and least favorite moments for the website, and most of them involve me doing something vaguely psychotic. Jay Murray described the night we fought about the placement of a hat stand, and apparently I bolted it to the floor when he left the room (something I don’t remember at all). Jiffer mentioned the time I threw the remote control at the wall and then bolted the kitchen cabinets shut so she couldn’t steal my Pop Tarts. Which is funny, because I don’t remember being that much of an asshole.
Good thing is, they all have warm, fuzzy memories of our time together, and I think most of us look upon those years very fondly. Jay says his least favorite moment was actually learning that we had lost the house. Still, it is always interesting to think of all the stupid things you’ve done and know that the people closest to you will never forget them.
The Celextant, April 23, 2002
I have this feeling of not quite being in my body, as if my sense of self has about 15% less interest in actually inhabiting something physical. I’m not running into walls or dropping irons on my feet or anything, but I do feel as though I’m gliding from situation to situation. As with all effects of this drug, it’s never quite bad enough to actually constitute discomfort, but interesting nonetheless. The outside is quite brilliant; everything looks a little Photoshopped to me.