I missed the Women’s March yesterday. I meant to make it, but I didn’t have any poster boards or ideas for poster boards or energy from the busy week to even walk down to the SF march. However, I am encouraged by hearing that there was one specific goal, to help women register to vote. Part of me didn’t want to go because there are many directionless intentions involved in the protests and marches. Making signs with glitter and witty phrases is fun and all, but, to quote Ta-Nehisi Coates, it’s more important to turn protest into production. I catch myself stating the same criticisms about oppression and white men and white people and other people in general sucking, but how much do I actually care about these protests? I get into conversations with folks and demonstrate an impassioned (borderline histrionic) tone on these socio-political subjects, but sometimes it just loses its meaning. I think I’ve become a little numb to the absurdities. My brain is getting all gobbledy gooked thinking about this. Need to get unstuck from sedentary fussy mind fucks.
I am on Prozac. I am scared it makes me more irritable. And that it makes me creatively incompetent. Mojo deteriorating, getting stiffer and stiffer as the chemical balancing particles seep their way deeper and deeper into my system. Focus. Sleep. Eat. Talk to people. Go to the doctor. Go to the gym. Listen to music. Nothing feels natural. But I do all of these things, the merry-go-round of being normal. Stale, unsure, looking at the reflection of this window which just tilted a little. I’m currently sitting, sipping on English tea at the 24 hour donut shop a few blocks away from my apartment. It’s 11pm and I didn’t want to walk all the way down to the school. It’s too monotonous of scenery at this point. I finished Roald Dahl’s The Witches this morning into the early afternoon at another coffee shop. On the way over I had NPR in my headphones, updating me on the latest of the government shutdown. After about thirty minutes of investigating articles and videos, I still have zero clue how to summarize why the government is shut down. From what I gather, it’s a stalemate of Democrats and Republics both too stubborn to budge on one or a few points. Of course I lean more with Democrats, but for this situation, I think everyone’s ridiculous. Those serving in the military and their families are getting shorted on pay and certain health securities when the government is shut down. It doesn’t matter whether Democrats or Republicans are more at fault- the biggest source at fault is the President, who’s supposed to be an effective diplomatic leader in a situation like this.
But anywho, that’s a headache there’s not enough aspirin in the universe for me to want to work through within the disintegrating recesses of my current mental energy. So, back to the children’s story I read. The Witches was refreshing, and nostalgic because although I had never read the book before, I watched the 90s movie adaptation of it which starred Anjelica Huston as the lead witch when I was in elementary school. The rest of the movie was not very memorable, really it was Huston who holds much vivid memory. She’s like a human tattoo. Anything she does is striking and unforgettable, stitching itself into the files of your brain. In the book, there was a term “Witchophile” used which was adorable. The grandmother’s character is an ex-witchophile, meaning she is someone who used to extensively research witches to try to defeat them. The Grand High Witch in the story kept reminding me of Donald Trump, a sort of demagogue figure. Only the Grand High Witch is more intelligent and refined. The content was full of cat-mouse description and I got another line of nostalgia for a song I hadn’t heard in a while by the White Stripes called “I Think I Smell a Rat.”
After I finished the book, I trekked back to my apartment, with wishful intentions to work on the new radio show’s blog, a chart of music related to food. I walked down to the school and free wrote a poem-esque introduction to the blog’s playlist theme, and then I went back to the apartment and researched music and made the playlist. But, after I finished all of that, I wasn’t sure if I uploaded the list correctly, or if I wanted to use the format/style I had created. Will anyone see it the way I have constructed the blog? I have technology anxiety. It’s pretty chronic. And I also need to continue reading for my Teaching/Research Assistantship that begins bright and middayish tomorrow. It’s an undergrad class on Existentialism. I read the Allegory of the Cave print-out that Professor Marjolein Oele handed me on Friday. The reading I need to continue is in a few other books for her course reading. I’m relatively nervous for the gig, she said there will be 40 students in the class. I haven’t even had enough time to get nervous for my graduate classes that start on Tuesday and Thursday night this week. Also, the Academic Coach job should be starting this week. I trained for three hours on Friday with Rachel Brunson and six or seven other folks in the Project Success program.
Well, deep, deep breaths. Busy week ahead. Remember that if it gets excruciatingly tough, I can always take up hard drugs and go back to my ex-boyfriend in Springfield, Missouri. There’s always that option.