2004-04-25 - 11:25 PM

I crashed today. It wasn't glorious and dramatic, there were no tears, no harsh words (maybe some moody ones), no wooshing sounds or clangs or whatever. It was completely internal, like my inner child's legs turned to jelly like mine do in nightmares, and it couldn't run, and something caught up with it and kicked it like a puppy.

I coded for 9 hours yesterday. There went my Saturday. I stopped halfway through and went to Circle K with Coral, who smiled and hugged me and frowned and said I looked gone. I thought that was weird, then. I felt fine. She knows me better, sometimes, then I do. It's phenomenal. Nobody's ever understood me as well as I do. I just never let anyone that close, I think.

Anyone.

But I was still okay. Today I spent another 8 hours in the lab, leaving for a couple 15 minute breaks for food and caffeine. I remember sitting in the chairs at the upper level of the student union, sunglasses on, munching on a bagel, thinking of a Ferris Beuller line, about how the day was too beautiful to spend at school. Then I went back into the lab.

The very fact that the irony was not lost on me, I think, is where it started to go downhill.

Around 7 I rushed up to the 10th floor with Andrew to catch the sunset. Missed it by a hair and some crappy windows. Was supposed to hang with Coral, she wasn't up for it, called Eddie... I work well with Eddie. We have system that doesn't involve tons of people, or excitement. We hide and recharge and talk, and Nikki's there, and it's good. But we met her at some crazy cross between hindu and hippie kind of place, that served vanilla lattes and Matte, and the girl that served us was in her 40's and had a bull-ring through her nose, and a tattoo of peacock feathers to cover up the tattoo of a butterfly, because that "wasn't her anymore." There was a tent in the back, and they wanted to go in, so I followed and sat in tiny chairs. There was a belly dancer, rhythmic and wild, but a little too pleased with herself and the attention. I wonder if it was through some sort of cosmic justice, that I just couldn't keep any sort of attention on her.

I looked around. Everyone there wore sandals. Not a pair of flip flops in the bunch, mind you. Birkenstocks and their ilk. Long hair. The room initially looked like part of the building, but it was actually a huge circus tent kind of deal. Our coffee table looked like a giant gong, some of the guys eyes were fixated on the belly-dancer's mach-speed wiggling ass. The one time Nikki managed to genuinely put my attention there was when she said "look, shiny!" and pointed at the beads around her waist.

I traced lines in the persian rug patterns on the ceilings, I looked intently at the bongo drums to the side and the little boy, 4 or 5, nestled up on a pillow next to a stuffed tiger, fast asleep in this bizarre parallel universe that reeked of indian food and sold Blue Sky soda. I pounded hot tea like there was no tomorrow and smiled passively at the dancer when she insisted on maintaining some sort of supposedly seductive eye contact with me. I hated her smile, she was too pleased with herself. I hated Eddie for taking me here, Nikki for calling me moody when I didn't want to watch the dancer, or didn't want to sit next to her on the floor, or didn't want something to eat at a place that thought having food that tasted good wasn't worth killing a fucking cow over.

Yeah. Veggie place.

I was in introvert hell, i realized. I had burned out so hard, suffered so long that I just wasn't prepared for people, people interacting with other people. Noise or clatter or waitresses, it was like I had no defense. Like my personal bubble had permanently popped and I was out of soap. I took out my cellphone and texted Heather, "Introvert hell. Where are you when I don't want to be around people?" She thought I wanted to be with another INFP. That wasn't it. Specifically, for some reason, I just really wanted to be with her instead. I just wanted to sit there in the dark with her head on my chest and scratch the back of her neck and listen to her sigh, and make occasional dorky conversation about webzines and taking footless men's shoes. Because then I think I could have been happy.

I could feel that area in the back of my eyes start to sting, like if I didn't maintain I could just start crying for no reason, and the belly dancer would be confused and poor Eddie would think he'd gone done fucked me good, and Nikki, well, she'd just feel bad and confused as hell.

So I maintained, and I kept the tea close to my face for convenient sipping, by which I mean "It's making my eyes tear." Which I didn't need to fall back on, but I think having an excuse was a great circumventing of trying to explain why all of the sudden I was afraid of the world.

And I was. Good lord, how I pounded tea. Later we tried ot think of something to do. We went to the grocery store but none of us felt like anything. Went to the video store, couldn't agree on a movie. Went to applebee's, closed. So Eddie dropped me off, right around the time I was beginning to pull out of my psychostupor and like people again. Which is, you know, sucky timing.

But I have another 8 hours of coding tomorrow, and 8 after that, and 8 after that, and 2 tests after that.

And then finals week.

Oh my god, this semester is ASS.

And by ASS, I don't mean the figurative sweaty-smells-funny-generally-ugly connotation. I mean the vehicle through which shit is ejected into the world. My world. And just like soap, I'm all outta toilet paper.

ASS.

-Alex

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