Sunday, February 27, 2011

anyday


wake up to cat scratching my face. throw cat off bed. yell. check time on cell phone. if its past 4 am, i take a pill. and then i take another pill. i try to fall back to sleep. success rate variable. if returning to sleep was successful, either wake up to cat scratching my face (repeat: throw cat off bed. yell), or to alarm. turn off alarm. get up. get out of bed with likeness of old, old man. change. spray on deodorant. wash hair and face. fix hair. pak lunches. make bed. make pot of coffee/warm up cup of coffee. drink coffee with desperate fervor. go on computer. no wall posts. only work emails. check out the news. shake head. make breakfast whilst getting ready. eat breakfast. wash dishes. dry dishes. put away dishes. mouthwash. brush teeth. put long sleeve shirt on. put hoodie on. put scarf on. put coat on. check pilot lights. lace or slip on shoes. shoo cat from door. exit apartment. lock door. check door. exit building. ask myself if this is really what i want to be doing. walk 0.9 miles to the lab. ask myself if this is really what i want to be doing. ascend five flights of stairs. ask myself if this is really what i want to be doing. go to office. remove outdoor attire. put lunches in fridge. ask myself if this is really what i want to be doing. go into lab. do lab stuff. ask myself if this is really what i want to be doing. eat lunch while reading papers. ask myself if this is really what i want to be doing. leave prematurely to catch bus to east campus for class. ask myself if this is really what i want to be doing. play on computer through class. ask myself if this is really what i want to be doing. catch bus to go home. get off at bus stop. walk to apartment building. enter through front. check mail. only junk. walk downstairs. unlock door. enter apartment. cat is there to greet me. it is cute. moments later, cat evolves into hell’s gatekeeper. sigh. put shit away. make dinner. listen to news. eat dinner. wash dishes. dry dishes. take shower. make a drink. get on the couch. watch tv. spray cat with water to discourage from eating pushpins off the wall. get another drink. watch tv. continue to reprimand cat to no avail. eat a snack. give up on reprimanding cat. pass out on couch. wake up. get in bed. stare at the wall until i fall asleep.
            repeat.

Monday, February 14, 2011

from winter brings the spring again


it is happening again. today is the first warm day of the year. it is currently 51º in the city of albany.
            though i am not currently in albany. i am currently in an executive conference room on the top floor of the cancer research center in rensselaer, new york. half of the room is floor-to-ceiling windows. i can see nearly 180º around. the catskills look beautiful in the haze of humidity. the clouds are large, white, and puffy, and dance amongst the blue sky—the particular hue of which today always makes me indescribably happy—and through the rays of sunlight.
            the way i feel now is how i expect to feel often as the weather improves and my little piece of planet earth thaws. the way i fee now is how i expect to feel often, as the sun becomes more of a staple in the albany sky.
            i cannot wait for spring.

Thursday, February 3, 2011

so happy i could die

            i have been having that feeling again like i am completely unhappy with everything that is going on in my life.
i am unproductive in the lab; partly due to an unrelenting course schedule, partly due to my own laziness, i am sure. the feeling of stagnation in the lab, and utter boredom in my classes has me feeling again like i am not sure if i am supposed to be doing this anymore.
i am not sure i am supposed to be doing anything anymore.
i am not great at anything. nobody can say that i am brilliant, etc. i am simply good—or—halfway decent at some things. i am sick of not being great. my skills are unlike van der waals forces: a bunch of things i can half-ass does not result in an overall strong skillset.
there are so many loose ends in my life that need tying up. for the most part they involve me overcoming the activation energy, as it were, to allow for me to go from a high stress state, to a low stress state. all i have to do is pick up a telephone.
and i have no idea what has gotten into me that i have become so under-motivated and so under-achieving.
i need a reboot. of everything. my social life. my career. my relationships. my sense of talent. my sense of purpose. everything. i need a change.
i need spring. no matter how difficult it may be to relive each season—i need it. and maybe this year i can live spring anew with a new life.
“i am a mess.”
i need to get back on track. and it all starts with me.
so get going, ryan.
tomorrow, it must begin.
thank you for reading.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

snowpocalypse 2011


i feel like i have been here before. “and yes, i know this seems to happen to me a lot.”
the snow piles up outside. i am hunkered down inside. there is beer and food in the fridge—wine, too. there is coffee brewing. my video game console is primed for use. billy talent is playing on my stereo. the only thing that is missing is my ex-roommate. the only thing that is different is that i am in albany, as opposed to oneonta—and i have plenty of cream for my coffee, this time.
this is yet another pleasant trip back in time as the same electrical patterns that made up my brain then, are recreated now. that’s how memories work. and i am convinced that memories are simply vehicles for time travel.
my body may be in my apartment right now, but nothing else is.
and that goes for my sex drive, too. it took off—without my knowledge or consent—to the fourth dimension. i asked my sex drive why it felt the need to leave this perfectly good space. it replied, “i wanted to get put to some use.” that’s as good an excuse as any for me. “you are no saint,” it said, “but i may as well be.” noted.
anyway: three years ago, upstate new york was hit with a snowstorm that cancelled classes for three days. it was an important week. and as we get hit with another class-canceling snowstorm, i cannot help being reminded of that time and be filled with the desire for imminent activity and change that i had back then.
my life needs a reboot.