Sunday, April 22, 2012

This is not a film

Actually it's my best night of sleep in a while, and it's the first night in my new apartment, so I wake up feeling excited. Into the living room where light is streaming through the windows and I realize I even have direct sun through my eyes and on my body too if I pull a chair right up to the sofa in the window, or sit on the sofa backwards, which means forwards looking out, or even if I lean back into the corner of the sofa. Everything looks gorgeous, and people are walking around outside in short-shorts because it's 60 degrees. The funny thing about this apartment is that people downstairs can see me as well as I can see them, but I don't really like curtains. Then when I turn on the new seasonal affective disorder lightbox I get a headache, or maybe I got a headache from the sun, or maybe I already had a headache when I woke up because of the lingering paint fumes, Andee says paint fumes only lasts for two or three days but I didn't ask how long they lasted for her. It's been more than two weeks here, and last night was the first night when I didn't smell the paint right when I opened the door, so at least there's progress. But then there's this headache, and of course the horrible bloating, worse than usual, clenching in my guts, now I have my contacts on so I can watch people outside with more detail and everyone is walking around with towels and coolers and ice and I know I should go on a walk but I want to write first, hopefully after my walk I'll feel better not worse but right now I want to say something about how I feel worse and how hard it is, especially on a beautiful sunny day the warmest of the year so far when everyone is outside celebrating but I don't know if I want to be around people although I hope I make it on my walk to Volunteer Park and that will be packed with people. And yes, one of the good things about this apartment is I can watch everyone from inside, and also that makes me want to go outside, so it goes in both directions, but then I also don't want to go outside, except that it's so nice out, and I need my morning walk anyway, noon is almost here and I can't decide whether I should wear shorts so that I can sit in the sun without getting too hot, even though it's only 60 degrees so the shade must be pretty cool, right, but that was easy – now I know that I need to wear shorts, at least for my walk to the park so okay, now I'm going. There go the church bells announcing noon, and I'm still inside. Don't worry: this will still be a morning walk. My hair looks greasier than I want it to and my desk chair won't go back far enough with this sleep sofa behind me: I'll have to get rid of the sleep sofa. I wanted it for guests, but luckily I can find other places for guests to stay. Maybe it will be better not to have guests sleep here, so I can leave my bedroom door open because it's hard to sleep when I don't know the air is circulating or actually it doesn't matter whether I know, just that when the air gets stuck my head clogs up and then I'm awake. Or maybe I'm awake first, but anyway I'm awake, and I don't want to be awake. Now either. But I'm going on a walk, I'm going on a walk anyway. Okay, now it's 62.6 degrees out, so you know I'm still inside. Because I know that. It's 12:11, and I need to do a little bit of feldenkrais before going out – my back hurts from sitting at this chair, is it because I can’t roll it back far enough, or just because? Oh, right: outside: it's incredible. The most beautiful day on earth, slightly too chilly for shorts but not so chilly that I need to turn back and when I get to the park it’s warm and not that crowded actually and I find a spot by myself or kind of by myself to lie in the grass in the sun and almost fall asleep I'm so tired and when I sit up I feel so calm and clear, staring at the little white flowers and the yellow dandelions in the grass and the way the light looks in different directions, and even keeping my shirt off as I walk through the park, why not, putting it back on as I enter the shade and then I'm walking back and I'm exhausted again. And then I'm more than exhausted, I guess that's exhausted from being exhausted? All this pain in my head, throughout my body actually, allergies in the air or the residue of the paint or sleeping in my actual bed I don't know, all I know is that I can't do anything. Luckily I can see the sky through my window in two directions, blue and soft with tiny translucent clouds and there's a super-tall skinny pine tree with a crow at the top, almost like Santa Fe I think although I'm glad I'm not there. What I'm saying is that it's incredibly beautiful and I feel awful. What I'm saying is that I love my apartment, it’s almost perfect, even the kitchen that I thought would be too small feels fine, I love my apartment and I feel awful. I want to go to this Iranian movie, This Is Not a Film, because I haven't seen a movie in a while and I think I might love this one and even though my body hurts and it might end up hurting more from watching the film that's not a film, my favorite kind, still I am in that blown-out exhaustion overload disaster zone that makes seeing a movie seem like the perfect thing, right? My eyes are burning now: must be seasonal allergies. Maybe that's what all of this is, because of the warmer weather – or, not all of it, but some of it. I've been trying to stop myself from taking a nap, so now it’s too late to take a nap, and maybe that's a good thing. I guess I'll get ready to go out, and see what happens. Or I won't get ready to go out. No, I'll get ready.

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