Listening To The Cure On Vinyl And Staring At The Monitor

Some weeks, I don’t feel like looking at my computer. This week has been one of those weeks. I mean, beyond the fact that I’ve been at work pretty much constantly, I just haven’t felt like getting online much. And that means a lack of new blogs lately.

Oh, I’ve had ideas. I was going to write about my love affair with Jarvis Cocker and Pulp, to celebrate Jarvis’ new album. Or maybe something about my experience at Bakersfield’s slightly ghetto new Peruvian restaurant, The Happy Rooster. Or maybe any of the other dozens of bizarre things that seem to happen to me on a daily basis.

But I’m just not feeling it. And by not feeling it, I mean that I’m currently floating in that hazy area between numb and depressed. I’m not depressed in that way that causes me to write great gobs of new material and I’m too numb to care one way or the other.

Why?

Plenty of reasons. Work is always stressful, but this week has been particularly so. I knew I was slipping when two of the bigwigs at the company asked me if something was wrong yesterday. I’m usually much better at checking myself at the door, but I guess I wasn’t doing as good a job masking how I normally feel at work.

And, of course, there’s other, more personal things. It’s the usual garbage I’m going on about here. None of it really matters, though. I’m pretty much giving up on a couple of people in my life. I don’t matter to them, so why should they matter to me?

But saying that is easier than doing that. And I’m sure the next few weeks will be quite terrible.

Basically, I’m broken. And it appears that I’ve run out of glue.