joblivion

I am not paying attention.

I missed Susan P. Bloom's holiday booktalk. Why? Because I'm afraid of people, especially people who might be concerned about me, and therefore did not stop by her office two weeks ago when I should have stopped in to ask about her booktalk. I'm a putz.

I like using Yiddish words and phrases during Chanukah. Makes me feel slightly less goyish. Although, why shouldn't I feel like a goy?

Back to my joblivion... I'm not paying attention in general. I am getting a lot of writing work done, which is good, but I didn't really notice that today is December 10th, or a Friday, or any other number of important things. I exist somewhere in my own brain, some tiny pinpoint of a place, where there's enough insulation around me that I don't have to care about most things.

I forget, sometimes, how easy it is to become invisible. It's not a superpower, you just fold in and become unimportant until you're that pinpoint and no one can see you unless they're really looking. And not many are really looking.

But then I know how hard it will be to unfold later. I've done all this before and it's counterproductive to Life. In a weak gesture of resistance, I've tried to keep up with David, I've emailed jLiz and Christi, I even called my brothers Cripps and Smacks last weekend. PHONE calls, not telepathic calls (which don't work, turns out). Smacks called me back to say he'd call me back. Later, I mean. He didn't, though.

It's too bad he didn't. I need to know what colors his girlfriend likes so I can make her a christmas present. I haven't decided what to make for the boys' girls this year. I've screwed myself over by giving them gifts in the past. It all seems so odd when I can't do anything for the people I really love, my friends here and all over. I mean, to put so much effort into a gift for girls I see on a quarterly basis for three hours altogether... If it's any consolation to the friends I love, I put more work into the Christmas cards I send you. When will I see any of you again? I can't even fathom it - having enough money or courage. Or time.

See, now that I'm pushing at the insulation I have to think again, and thinking leads to dwelling, and dwelling leads to NOTHING GOOD AT ALL. Stop stop stop.

I want to be so small. Shrinkidink. zzzzzzip. tiny. gone.