That’s how I feel right now – except the scream is more of a muted, muffled scream rather than a loud, barbaric one. I’m so frustrated about how stagnant everything is. I’m just waiting for something to happen and I’m running out of patience. I feel incredibly isolated and alone and want to curl up into a ball and just go to sleep forever. But I probably wouldn’t be able to fall asleep. HAHAHAH!
I was all excited to open this post with a song lyric. Belle & Sebastian’s “Act of the Apostles II,” which I thought contained the lyric “I’m a genius / a prodigy / My sad sighs / are up for a prize.” Prize-winning Sad Sighs?? Yes, please.
Turns out “my sad sighs” is actually “at maths and science”. Stupid Scottish accent. So that is not relevant at all.
ANYWAY.
I’m just here to report on a small Sad Sigh. I’ve had a nosering for, like, 5 years now. See:
So I’m used to it, right? Except that apparently the other night I rolled over violently on that side of my face OR SOMETHING because now I have a cut inside my nostril and a bruise surrounding the cut from the nose ring.
Yes, that’s right, I injured myself in my sleep with my own nose ring. My friends know that I’m very prone to falling down randomly, dropping glasses, and generally being awkward, but apparently I’m also capable of hurting myself when I’m dead asleep.
In a way I’m happy to not have to be working and dealing with the break-up. At the same time, work might be exactly the type of distraction I need from it. The ex tends to occupy my thoughts the majority of the day, and when I wake up too early in the morning and start drifting back to sleep, all it takes is a split-second thought of him to render me wide awake. But now, for the past couple of days, it seems day time thoughts haven’t been enough, and my subconscious is causing me to dream about him at night. And they’re not the best of dreams either. They’re the ones that really just sort of unveil my insecurities and make me wake up feeling like shit, even though it’s just a dream.
I guess the upside to all of this is my usual fatty self hasn’t been in full eating mode, as it usually has been. Feeling hunger is sort of rare, and when I do feel it, sometimes it just switches to nausea. Even if I’m hungry, and I start eating, I find it difficult to finish, but pick on my food because I know I’ll probably be hungry later – and then I’m not. It sounds a bit dramatic, but it’s not, I’m eating enough. It’s just weird because I really like eating, and my “I eat what I want” attitude has led to some weight gain. Now, I’m down to my college weight and my muffin top jeans are too big. I need a new belt. Or, a new wardrobe. Or, I just want to be able to eat like normal again, even if normal = gluttonous. Because what’s the point of eating if you can’t even enjoy it? The only good thing about it is my double chin has lost some prominence. Woot.
This afternoon, I come to share the news that honorary Sad Sigh writer Morrissey collapsed and was taken to the hospital, causes unknown.
Speculation abounds! What could have toppled the former Smith’s lead singer, responsible for lyrics such as “I’ve a shyness that is criminally vulgar” and “life is a pigsty” and “life has killed me”?
Grace: Do you think sorrow brought him down?
Kristin: I think he collapsed under the weight of his own tears.
That’s right! We know what made Morrissey collapse! And let this be a lesson to you all as well. Sadness has its price! IT HAS ITS PRICE.
