cats are weird

so i'm sitting at my computer, ripping mp3s into my Sims installation so i can make them play some music that doesn't suck. i have a bowl of strawberries for breakfast. iceberg is on my desk, frantically nuzzling the strawberries. not eating them, not batting them around -- nuzzling them. evidently, they are his new best pal.

chalk another one up to the mysteries of the ages.

the wonders of pharmacology

i'm thrilled with this stuff the shrink prescribed. i'm getting to sleep easily, sleeping through the night, waking up feeling reasonably refreshed, and not constantly gritting my teeth and grimacing -- which is what my face falls automatically into if i stop thinking about it for long. i don't know whether that's an actual stress thing, or just something my body's gotten so used to that it thinks it's normal.

anyway, i don't feel dopey or anything. honestly, i wouldn't even know i'd taken anything except i'm not frowning. god damn, this is nice.

the spa treatment was... indescribable. i really just can't be bothered to go into it all, but let me put it this way: i've never been so relaxed in my life, and my skin, from head to toe, is now flawless and soft and smooth and silky. fan-fucking-tastic. best $243 i've ever spent.

spring fever

i spent last night and today playing The Sims and watching DVDs. last night, A.I., today Sexy Beast and Arlington Road. a little while ago i went to take the DVDs back and decided to go ahead and rent a couple more: Snatch and Blow -- think of it as a Bob Guccione theme night. i was out of cash, but Sheila said i can pay her tomorrow. damn, it's nice to be enough of a regular somewhere that they let me do that.

i ran across the street to Safeway for some more seltzer water and as i stepped out of the store, i realised what a beautiful night it is. cool but not cold, clear, the air smelling clean and damp the way it does on good nights here. (on bad nights, it smells of rotting kelp. it's the price one pays for living at the beach.)

anyway, the air -- it was nice. it seemed full of possibility. suddenly i thought, maybe i won't go home. maybe i'll go somewhere else. if only i had somewhere to go. but wait! i do! Ron and Jeff are playing at La Barca tonight, and i'd totally forgotten! sure, it's already after 10, but they'll only have just started playing. i could get there in time for the second set.

then i realised i'm wearing a tank top with no bra underneath, guacamole-stained pants a size too big that would fall down if i attempted the twist, and a pair of ancient, filthy faux birkenstocks. at the very least, i'd have to go home, change clothes, and run a wet comb through my hair. still, maybe -- i feel so energized by this air. i feel alive. i feel like anything could happen. aye, and there's the rub. if i go to that bar, to see that band, feeling this way...

the bartenders there generally comp me one margarita for every two i buy. and i've already had a couple of amaretto and sodas tonight. and i just had that lovely spa treatment, and i'm thoroughly hydrated and thoroughly rested, and monday the whole heinous work cycle starts up again. do i really want to exhaust and poison myself now?

well... no.

so i came home. where i will have another amaretto and soda, watch one of my DVDs, and go to bed before one like a responsible adult. because when i was 25, i could look forward to a tired, hung-over morning with bravado and a strange sense of pride. i was young! i was tough! i could go the distance! surely tomorrow would never really arrive. tonight would last forever and ever, in a dizzying swirl of loud music and sweaty boys and just one drink too many.

now i'm 35. i know tomorrow is coming all too soon, and i know i'll regret it if i waste a whole day of my weekend recovering from a wild impulse i breathed in with the night air.

but oh, i wish it wasn't so.