Here's an odd twist: Sleep has quit coming at the early hours and has returned to college pattern of staying up until 2 or 4 a.m. and wondering why I'm "barely verbal" only a few hours later. It's odd, these creatures that manage to move around in the morning, are able to do so with such stern faces, but incredible swiftness. They are all dressed up in their business clothes, heading off to their "real" jobs, meetings and the like. Meanwhile, I'm sitting around in a pair of boxers with a way-past-five-o'clock shaddow on my face, squinting eyes and drool hanging out of the left side of my mouth.
I've learned that if you let them speak this strange language at you for long enough (I think it's called "proper English"), they'll go eventually do whatever it is they are getting up for, and leave you to pass out on the pull-out bed that's become your home for the summer.
I'm feeling a bit more logical of late. I've started down the long, weary path of working my way into a Web project. Well, the fact that it has the word "Web" in it is a misnomer. We associate the World Wide Web with an explosion of color and creativity that excites the mind.
Instead, I'm doing online invoices.
I can't stand not being able to talk about what it is I'm doing, other than to refer to them as "projects." I've made a grand total of $87.50 this summer, and even then it hasn't been paid yet. I'm scheduled to meet with a Web team tomorrow (not paid for this one either), yet don't have a car to get there. Early next week I'm supposed to go downtown to meet with a potential client (will be paid), again with a great deal of uncertainty as how I'm getting there. I suppose I should add "car" to the list of things needed when I consider trying to make a living off of this stuff. The one exception to that is the unannounced visit (well, I had 120 seconds worth of notice) from a client who wanted to review progress on the site (again, unpaid).
I miss Samantha. And no, not because she has a car. Because it's good to have someone around who halfway understands what all is weighing on your mind. My parents have delusions of grandeur for what it is I can accomplish, meanwhile I'm sitting around thinking that "fight or flight" is a good strategy. I don't have to worry about money at all this summer, and I'm arguably in the best financial shape (student loan debt aside) I've ever been in since turning 16. The student loan debt isn't of great concern, because by any standard I'm walking out of UT Martin with only a fraction of what my peers will face.
While walking around Nashville, I kept telling Samantha I intended to get a "toy" to take my mind off of things. The fact is, I want to have something that can keep me occupied in this dead space between me actually accomplishing anything and moping. My interest in world events has faded, and I've started to scale back a couple of goals for the summer. I still want to get the newspaper's Web site up to spec, but even that mountain of a task gets taller every time it crosses my mind. I think I need to just switch off the computers for a day or two, but then what would I do? I can't sit still long enough to watch television or a movie. Here in my room, there's pretty much books and music. I'd read books, but even that requires concentration I can't spare.
(I think I'm making up for all the times I never bothered to gripe on my blog.)
I get e-mails every day telling me of dates and times for things that I should attend or deadlines I should meet. I open them, read them, and close them. No effort to actually grab a larger view of what this summer is supposed to "be." Mom and dad mentioned vacation, and I went on the defensive. They could have said I was being kicked to the corner and gotten less of a a response. Even if there was fun to be had, I can guarantee I wouldn't have it. My brain wouldn't let me.
I think I'm a captive to my own peculiar ways of dealing with stress. I would rather hole myself up in a 10'x10' room, where outside a parrot squawks because the radio is playing much too loud, where I'm bothered at least once every thirty minutes for things that don't even come close to my concern, and where I spend all waking moments in front of a computer. I suppose my irritability comes from not speaking aloud with another human for 3 or 4 hours straight. This isn't healthy.
I really should be asleep. The next day will come and knock me on my ass the same way the last five or six weekdays have. The light at the end of the tunnel is a train.