Sunday, November 21, 2010

Insomnia? Or the end result of over-sleeping?

I can't sleep. Not sure why. Well, that's untrue. I woke up at 9 AM and then proceeded to fall asleep and wake up again several times until 1 PM. I didn't even eat anything until almost 2:30 this afternoon because I always seem to wake up nauseous.

I'm also on a bit of a high because I got to see Florence and the Machine on Saturday Night Live. I know it's not exactly cool to like that show, but A) I don't care about being cool and B) I've been watching for years and I love it. Also, Florence was ON tonight. She was so beautiful, with her shiny red curls and her red lips and her black dresses (that beaded one she wore for the "Dog Days Are Over" performance was gorgeous but SO SHORT- at least she has the legs for it!) and I was so happy that she got to show everyone how amazing she is. Seriously, if I hear one more Goddamn person my age talk about how Katy Motherfucking Perry is a great role model because she "speaks her mind" and she's "original" I'll scream. Flo not only writes amazing songs but she also is a natural performer, one of those people you can't take your eyes off, like their work or not. She was born to do what she does. And I'll watch her as long as she does it- she's only two years older than me so I think it'll be a while before it's all over.

Anyway, end fangirl rant...

I have another semi-unofficial shift tomorrow. I'm helping put up displays for Black Friday or something, and I don't have to be at Bath and Body Works until 6 PM. In workout clothes. So... I'll be dressed how I normally am around the house, but I'll be getting paid. And missing The Simpsons. But getting paid.

I watched another somewhat depressing movie on Netflix last night- The Sea Inside. If you don't mind subtitles I would recommend it. Basically it's about a man, Ramon Sampedro, who, after suffering a spinal injury as a young man, becomes a quadriplegic and is lobbying the Spanish government to allow assisted suicide so that he can die with a little dignity. The government (surprise, surprise) never relents and his friends, in secret, dose him with cyanide and grant him that one last wish of his. I'm not sure how I feel about the subject matter. My immediate response is, no, he should value his life, but upon further reflection, I realized that I would probably want the same thing. And he was trapped like that for nearly THIRTY YEARS. What kind of life is that? He chased away his fiancee so that she would have a chance to live unburdened by his condition, instead placing most of the weight on his brother and sister-in-law, and, later on, his nephew. But what I didn't understand was, Ramon accomplished so much despite his disability. Why didn't he see that? He invented a writing tablet that allowed him to write using his mouth (I'm not entirely sure how it worked, I only saw him writing). He wrote poetry that his sister-in-law saved in a box and was later published. And Julia, the lawyer working on his case pro bono, tried to understand him and his reasoning as well as she could while dealing with her own disability (she has two strokes over the course of the film, the last taking a good chunk of her memory). I sympathized with her the most.

There was one line in particular that got to me. Ramon's father, speaking to Julia; "There's only one thing worse than having your son die on you... him wanting to."

Overall I felt like it was a good story about a person's right to control what happens to their body, and what life is about, and all that. I just can't imagine why I keep finding all this depressing shit to watch. It always sounds good and then I get through it and, surprise, I cry buckets through half the movie. Maybe I'm just over-emotional right now and this is what I need. I've felt wildly out of control the last few months to the point where maybe I need therapy. But if I do start seeing a shrink, it won't be one of those woo-woo, touchy-feely weirdos like the last guy my mom took me to. I was angrier when I left than when I'd gone in. I talk about how I don't like it when people openly judge me, he makes me look around the room and says there's nobody here to judge me. DAMN! NO WAY! I had no idea there wasn't anyone else in this tiny room! I tend to feel emotions in extremes, I'm either really good or really bad. Then there's the days where I literally feel NOTHING. I have to make myself feel something. No, I'm not talking about self-harm or anything like that. I just have to read a book that really affects me or listen to music or something, but it's still a little weird to think, "Did I really have a feeling today? I can't remember." But then, sometimes I can't remember whether or not I put on deodorant five minutes after I would've put it on.

Aagghhh... I'd better get some sleep. Later, dudes.

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