girlsdontcry's Diaryland Diary


Third of the third

The third of the third two-thousand-and-three.

I like the number three, although I've given up saying that it's my lucky number because I can never remember an occasion where it's actually been lucky for me.

I spent too much of the weekend with my head filling up with too many ideas, then I couldn't really get out of bed much at all on Sunday for most of the day. Only then I did make it up for a spot of frantic cleaning, which lead, of course, to more ideas filling up my head, stupid cleaning schemes where I'd clean one item in my flat until it was pristine every day, until the whole place was spotless and everything was under control. I was scrubbing the cooker with a toothbrush, oh gee, and thinking of bleaching things, and cleaning cupboards, and tidying bookshelves, and cleaning skirting boards. It's lucky I live in the smallest place in the world or else I'd be overwhelmed.

I was in a bookshop trying to read more of the Book of Job on Friday, and feeling frantic too, almost jumping out of my seat to ask someone "How did they know what Satan and God were saying to each other?" and then "Did God tell someone about this conversation?" and then thinking how it really didn't present him in a very good light, that your children and business could be wiped out on a whim, so then I was thinking that maybe God didn't tell someone about this conversation, that it was completely made up by someone speculating on how fate works, and then wondering why I was reading it if that was the case, and then I was thinking how I shouldn't be thinking about things like this, and how I shouldn't be thinking about anything at all. I don't like this, what if someone tries to recruit me into a cult right now, I might just go, I have to stop thinking about this stuff. I think.

I hate it, I just want some peace and quiet there for a bit, you know.

But it was like that all weekend.

I saw Adaptation, and I was disappointed that it wasn't nearly as manic as I'd wanted it to be and that the first five minutes were so great, and were exactly what I was thinking just before I'd got to the cinema (I thought to myself maybe I could learn Russian and read the Russian authors in Russian, and then one of the first things he says in the movie is how maybe he could learn Russian).

But then I go to my brother's and I'm so good and being normal again, so I think if I was just around people more then I'd be just fine, I don't think there's actually anything wrong with me, I just get scared at the prospect of too much time on my own and therefore I desperately make up things to fill up my head so I won't feel too bad.

But today I feel like I have some kind of waking sleep apnoea, which I guess would just be apnoea now that I think of it, and I keep suddenly having to gasp for breath, my stomach is a knot and my liver is hurting.

10:18 a.m. - 2003-03-03


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