acting (amphiboly)

Dear Diary,

 

Narratives are hard to make. Some narratives oversimplify, others make an account more comfortable to accept, perhaps by massaging or erasing certain facts. Lately I've been eating like a pig. On the other hand I've also been around lots of people. I had a horrible anxiety spike and feeling of social discomfort at work on Thursday because one colleague was bitching about our boss, and then a peace offering was made from the management to us (a couple of bottles of wine). What then happened was that something went wrong with a guest and I feel the relationship between management and the grunts (us working the shift) fell apart again. The olive branch dropped. I had a really uncomfortable nightmare on the Friday morning, so uncomfortable that it felt so real that the feelings that went through my head affected how I felt about myself.

Interpreting dreams is tough. I have a hard scientific mind and I don't think necessarily that there's some Freudian shit going on or that dreams can always make consistent sense. However, dreams I feel do process emotions and thoughts, some of which consist of things I may not be aware of. One time for instance I had a dream which revealed that I had on a very minor level, feelings about a girl that I knew (who happens to be a budding academic at Oxford, she probably doesn't remember me anymore but I wish her well and remember her fondly).

One thing I miss is romantic closeness with another human being. I hate the idea of dating, dating is like a job interview. Job interviews basically scan for suitable candidates given a closed and limited picture of what you can see of the candidate. Interviews which ask the right questions may hit hard at the issues that really need to be asked and can be good indicators. On the other hand, interviews don't show everything about a person, unless they are really technical kinds of interviews and use psychometric shit or subject specific competencies.

I wish I could tell you about some of the contents of my day. But I think I'll leave it to stay anonymous and unimportant as a blog, but lets just say that I ended up bumping into someone famous and influential in an amusing way. It's going to be part of my dinner party repartee when I am a lovely and interesting raconteur. HA! (sarcastic tone of disapproval)

I don't really have anybody to talk to, and even though I'm charming several women on unexpected or spurious occaisions, what I really miss is having somebody who knows who I am. Even the voice in my head doesn't know who I am anymore. Perhaps that's worrying. I think that I'm realising a sense of who I am through acting and performing, compared to introspecting and quiet distance. The exercise analogy comes into play here: I am making the person that I want to be. As (I think it was) Feuerbach said once: you are what you eat. This weekend I've been around people, commiting to hobbies and activities. Maybe this is a new side of me, maybe this is a part of my personality which can grow, a part of my personality which explores the shades of my anxiety as well.

I better head off to bed. I don't have a music playlist to run anymore. I've said ad nauseam how I am behind on my schedule, how I've eaten overindulgently and how I've been low on sleep. Maybe I should do less reflecting and more acting. Also, if anyone wants to reply to the fact that I've been blogging a lot lately, that may be true for today, but I've not had a chance to think or reflect properly, since at least Thursday. Tomorrow is 'back' to normal. I'm going to expect to hear that my civil service exam has not been successful and I'll return back to square one. How depressing, and yet, how delightfully familiar.

Good night