Monday, February 19, 2007

Get your funk on, or off ?

I've noticed a common thread connecting many, many people I know lately: the late winter isolation funk. I myself have been afflicted. Work bores the crap out of me, I don't want to go out (which seems to be for the best lately as my liver has put in a request for some time off) and the only way I seem to want to spend my spare time is watching T.V, reading trashy novels slash "behind the scenes exposes" like the one I just finished about Sororities (surprise! they drink a lot, have eating disorders and are generally shallow brats). I used to work for a sorority- It's all true, and then some.
I'm thinking I need a hobby- origami, stamp collecting, erotic painting, making homemade cotton candy, cataloging my scarf collection, transcendental meditation, raising hedgehogs, learning how to weld, you know, something new and unfamiliar. But, I'm fairly lazy, so I'll probably revert to the usual: shopping, t.v & organizing my closet (which generally includes trying on dresses I never wear and walking around the house a bit -with matching shoes-so I can justify keeping them).


I am having lunch today with my guy Leon. Leon & I have a strange, but wonderful relationship. He was a customer of mine when I was a server at a restaurant by my house. I abandon/dump fringe friends on a regular basis, but he & I have been getting together for lunch or coffee for a while now, and I like seeing him. He's in his late 60's/early 70's, and I think he is just lonely. I tend to attract people who need people to talk to.
I am Mumford. Total strangers will single me out, tell me their problems (oh, your job as a phone sex operator isn't working out? Your ex-husband stole all your underwear AND your '82 Buick Regal? Tell me more!) and want my opinion. Frankly, I enjoy my role as laundromat psychologist. Nothing excites me more than learning all the gory details of people's lives. I don't care if you drive a mercedes to your job as the premier horse whisperer in the state, or if you take the bus 2 hours to your job as sock sorter at the Buster Brown factory- I want all the details. What you had for breakfast, why you chose your outfit, who you had sex with last night- I will be entertained for hours.
I can't decide if this is a fault or a gift, or just kind of sad.

I guess if someone wants me there, knowing all the details, then shit, let me make some coffee and whip up a bundt cake- we're gonna be here a while.


I think to try to alleviate the funk today I will buy myself a new pair of undies. And maybe new socks. And maybe a sweater on sale as it is that time of year. And maybe some crack.

I have the day off- anything's possible.

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