Oh, to be away from myself. Just for a day.
No wonder I have such separation anxiety when I’m far from people like Emmy and MF and Lulu and Yo-nenny. Then look who I’m stuck with: yo. Only a few other people can edge me a little away from my own toxicity.
Here’s Emmy in the swing tonight. She and I had just gotten out of the bath.
All day today I paid month-plus-overdue bills and unpacked some stuff from five or six trips ago.
Where does this persistent feeling of dread come from? Knowing that tomorrow I face another day of brutal job-searching? That Emmy & Co. are leaving soon? Or that things are in turmoil in a certain California location? That I don’t even know what I’m doing next or where I’ll live or why? I was thinking today that I tolerate uncertainty okay, but total ambiguity — tule fog at night — I suck at. “Just go along for the ride,” some people suggest, wisely but not practically. “Think of this as a time of excitement,” say others who, somehow, live through that comment.