Is It The Full Moon?
I'm feeling pretty weird tonight, like I'm in a mini-dissociative state. I feel like I keep leaving my body briefly, like I'm floating over my life for 30 seconds. Among the possible reasons, is the way I've been eating for a week. I'm doing that thing called The Whole 30. Have you heard of it? You spend a month not eating any of the foods that make human life tolerable--no dairy, no grains, no sugars, no pleasure. I'm doing it because I've been exhausted every day lately. Among the ridiculous claims The Whole 30 people make, having super energy is the most interesting to me. They also promise that you will look better, think clearer, have effortless vaginal orgasms, contribute to world peace, and indulge in feelings of superiority over friends and family who are enjoying their lives eating a bunch of shit (even though you know that historically when you have committed to an arbitrary program of deprivation, it will most likely backfire. It's highly possible that the moment The Whole 30 is over, you will enter a Whole 60 of bingeing on ice cream, lasagna, and grilled cheese sandwiches and you will feel humiliated and small whenever you're around the people you bragged to while you were smug and saying shit like "I think I'm TOTALLY over sugar. It's amazing!")
So that's one reason. Another possible reason is that I have a ton of writing to do. I'm going to spend most of the next two weeks alone in my apartment wearing dirty yoga pants and ignoring the phone. I realize that doesn't sound dissimilar from my usual M.O. but there is a distinct difference: I will be writing. I will be finishing a book I've been working on for 15 months, that I originally (and foolishly) promised the guy who hired me, to have done in six. Because I am not depressed right now, I am confident I'll get it done. In fact, I'm looking forward to it. I can feel myself letting the world go a little bit at a time, getting ready to go THERE. I read that Maya Angelou goes THERE by renting a hotel room, drinking a bottle of sherry, and doing crossword puzzles until it's time to start writing, until she gets THERE. It's been a long time since I've been THERE for an extended period. The last time was 2009. I had to write a murder mystery in ten days so I could submit it to an agent I met at one of those awful writer's conferences where you pay $300 to get five minutes with a crap agent, hoping they'll ask to see your manuscript. I totally lied to the agent I met with and told him about this book I had written. There was no such book. Incredibly, he wanted to see it, for me to send the whole thing as soon as possible. I went home and I wrote it. I wrote for ten, twelve, fourteen hours a day. I did nothing but sleep, write, and demand that Billy bring me cups of coffee. I did not take a shower, I did not change my clothes, I did not leave the house. Sadly, it ended up that the agent didn't want to represent me (it took the wind out of my fiction-writing sails for several years, until maybe the last year or so.) Anyway, I love going THERE. When I'm THERE, I don't feel the world. I'm not concerned with anything that is part of my regular life. I have no fear or worry or self-conscious crap bugging me. I would call it a high but it's not euphoric or spacey. I am focused. When I'm finished, I'm a little sad. I fantasize about living THERE, that place where there is only one thing to do, only one psychic space to occupy. Maybe that is why I'm feeling weird, I'm packing my mental bags, I'm getting ready to go.
Another reason I could be feeling weird is that I am having a lot of sex. It's pretty good sex. I have the sex chemicals whooshing through my veins, making me feel dumb, happy, and tired. I was driving somewhere and I had the thought, "I'm so happy! What's going on?" and then I remembered, "Oh, I got laid today." It's possible that I'm having too much sex. It's possible I'm escaping my life that way. I'm not sure. It's possible I'm trying to get filled up (no pun intended) with human interaction, with connection, before I go THERE.
It's also possible that I am feeling detachment and spaciness because of the full moon and the solstice. I'm not sure I believe in astrological influences but I'm not sure I don't. Maybe that's the thing about my mood--I'm not sure generally. I'm not sure where my life is going beyond my upcoming trip THERE. Strangely, I don't feel too anxious about it. I'm more curious than anything. All I know is that I'm going to wear dirty clothes, drink too much coffee, and write a book. It feels like everything will be different once that's done, once the season officially changes, once the moon moves through its phases.
If you don't hear from me or if you do and I seem distracted, if I forget to hug you or I say things that don't make sense, if I'm not my usual self, it's because I'm THERE. I'll send you a postcard, we'll go out for coffee when I get back, I'll get in your bed again. I promise.