From that Job that Makes You Sleep, to the Thoughts that Keep You Awake.

Hello fellow dreamers, poets and weirdos. Sorry for the belated post. I’ve been having the strangest week. Olympics and friends and thong-clad gladiators and a day that everything died… yes. Strange is the best word. But! You guys! Exactly one month from now my Time Off for A-Camp begins! I don’t think I’m ready. In fact, I know I’m not ready. Lucy and I have had several conversations about A-Camp. Most end in a weekend at Disneyland instead of actually attending. I know (AKA hope with all my heart) that A-Camp will be worth the time, effort and money. I just don’t want it to be like when I was a kid growing up in Montana but travelling to California for “Cowboy Camp”.

Californians are naturally curious creatures. 

Mostly I want Riese and Marni to adopt me.

If you don’t know Riese: she created this! Also when she was younger and angstier and living in New York she wrote this and when I found it and read it everything felt good the way coming home is supposed to feel good but never quite does. That blog kept me alive through most of last winter. I foster deep hero worship for Riese.

I get to meet Riese at A-Camp! She may even touch my face. What this means for me: all the excited feelings and all the anxious feelings. I have one month to research interesting conversation topics, figure out how I’m getting back home from L.A., and pack my things. Maybe I just won’t come back home from L.A… maybe that’s the answer.

This week is best summarized by the profound and eternal words of Kanye West:

I’ve been working this graveshift and I ain’t made shit.

I wish I could buy me a spaceship and fly.

While my bank account isn’t complaining, an entire month of overtime has started to take its toll. I know, my job doesn’t strike anyone (myself included) as particularly difficult. No joke, I spent at least 20 minutes today researching parasitic fungi that manipulate their insect hosts’ bodies through mind control before killing them. Creepy or awesome? I’m undecided. Remember Honey I Shrunk the Kids? They rode that ant and I would have almost loved him except mandibles are creepy. Anyways, obvs certain aspects of my job are easy enough.

But things can also be really difficult. Receptionists are the lowest on the veterinary totem pole. We’re expected to be on our game 110% of the time. Co-workers are either cranky or condescending and clients either pity us or walk all over us. Sometimes they pity us because they’ve just finished walking all over us. Nobody seems to mind interrupting us because their work is more important and their time is more valuable than ours. Is it though? Is it really? At the end of my long days I’m lucky if I can muster the social skills to grunt at my roommates before locking myself upstairs to decompress. Like I said, a month of overtime has started to take its toll.  

To be fair, I do enjoy my job. Even when I want to drive paper clips through my eyelids or staple my own lips together. My co-workers are lovably quirky and there’s never a dull moment. Here’s the thing: people who join the vet field want to work with animals because they aren’t good with other people. Turns out, you still have to communicate with other people. Just imagine a whole building of highly intelligent, socially anxious introverts and you’re looking at a day in my life. In the end we’re all just trying to keep living things alive. Ourselves as much as the animals. Thank god for bi-weekly yoga.

I could stay in child's pose my whole life

Coincidentally, I missed yoga both days this week. I’m not complaining, because C was in town! Briefly. She drove back from Smalltown, Montana (where she’s been singing, dancing and acting all summer) for a StoneSoup poetry reading. Monday we cavorted about Laurelhurst Park, eating bahn mi, discovering alien life forms, sitting in the shade and consulting the tarot. We talked about all of the heavy things until breathing seemed a little easier. I needed that, because shit has been pretty heavy lately. Some days feel like a game of Russian Roulette except all the chambers are loaded. It’s nice to have a friend warning you to not pull the trigger.

And of course the poetry was phenomenal.

On an unrelated note, I’ve been sleeping really poorly the last couple weeks. I’ve been drifting in and out of that strange, liminal almost-sleep that never feels restful. When I do manage to actually sleep, I’ve been dreaming actively and vividly. I blame a handful of culprits. One, eating spicy (or any) food right before bed. Two, my body finally realizing I’ve actually given up alcoholic nightcaps for the long haul. Body is thus displeased. Three, lately my neighbors have been big on late night drum circles, freestyle rapping and slam poetry. I think Snoop Lion must have moved in. Anyhow, tonight I’ma try a melatonin supplement to help me crash. Wish me luck? Maybe I'll try to write some sleepy garbled nonsense for you creeps. I hope it has something to do with your face being a beautiful shade of kittens.

I love you all, and hope to be more coherent on Sunday!

-b