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god likes to mess with me

31 August 2007

August 31 Friday
9:30-9:50 run/walk more running than walking
Today’s iMix…or, “God likes to mess with me”:
Fools Rush in—Jimmy Dorsey
Deathly—Aimee Mann
The Engine Driver—Decemberists
Comfortable—John Mayer
Sons of Cain—Ted Leo
Tell me what it takes to let you go—Aerosmith

Ugh. My iPod won’t work. And I don’t have time to worry about fixing it. I don’t have time to look at wordpress and .mac for blog ideas for 30 minutes either, but I just did that. Damn you internet and technology!

Am getting better at the running, even imagine doing the 6k at the sunshine run, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves.
What an f-ed up morning. (PS—the eye twitch is back) after waking up from dreams about Ex Boyfriend, the iMix Made To Remind Me Of Him comes on. And I’m a perfect blend of really really mad at him, and really really indifferent toward him. In this strange limbo world where I’m not sure whether I’ll ever see him again, and not sure how I feel about that. But at the same time sure that I probably will talk to and see him again, just knowing how we are. I just don’t know when and under what circumstances, and I HATE that. I should STOP defining my life by him now, as I should’ve done multiple times over the last few years. MY life as an artist and a woman can have meaning without him in it, and I hate that I second-guess that sometimes. I hate that I have to think about him when The Engine Driver comes on, and now dammit my iPod won’t get off of shuffle, the menu button is screwing up. Why the crashing down, life? Huh??? Exboyfriend melancholy and technology breaking down around me. And I need to go to work and then get my apartment ready for Jennie to visit. And there are more important things to think about. Like shopping in Branson…

Just thinking this a.m. how it’ll be an adjustment to having a person with me 24/7 over the weekend, I’ve become a happy little hermit when I’m at home. Walking around sportsbra clad as I please.

So this became far less about running and far more about my petty problems. Grow it up, kid.
I’m just worried about my freaking iPod…

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