Bastard Anxiety

Look, just when I'm on the cusp of, you know, something sort of even, some sort of nice homeostasis, I've gotta be rooted out from below, water rising to push me from the window.  Last two afternoons were pure hell.  Maybe it is because I share an extremely small (I'm talking 10 feet by 7 feet) office with someone else--anyone else.  Even though he's a genuinely good guy and I've made progress on not judging him lately.  And I even intuit that he doesn't hold past judgments against me, something that's clear and away amazing to me.   And maybe it is because I'm playing an avoidance game.  I have too much to do at work, and not enough that's interesting.  Updating one of the files that needs updating is needlessly arbitrary because we don't have a unified database.  Instead there are, get this, five.  Five places to update one (the same) thing.   Shit, I just remembered that I didn't remember one of the places.

The old man downstairs just chuckled a good chuckle.  The cat peed on the bed today.  Hard core.  Lots of pee.  I'm talking was there a small child in here pissing kind of pee.  I looked up at the ceiling expecting a leak.  Nope, had to be the cat.  Late night run to the laundry mat.  Fun.  And then we're leaving for the weekend on a morning flight.  Fiance sleeps over there peacefully--thankfully--next to said cat, who seems to have extinguished all of her urge to pee for now.  I"m pretty sure she was pissed at me for not feeding her earlier and that's why she did it--not that it matters greatly.

I don't know what it was, but my mind was supercharged, racing around into all of the corners of procrastination.  I started the day just fine.  Maybe I was hungry, maybe that was it.  I've been carefully manufacturing an undercurrent of reform for so long. What happens when I can't hold on to any comforts?  When nothing is there?  Is there something true and honest and raw about experience in this state of misdirection, of strong ambivalence?  If most of the things I know were spuriously rooted in bias of some sort, egotism, desire to be something I'm not, false narrative, what is there, what is at base, you know, out there?  Another internet page for the gutter, another split screen for my youth.