Friday, April 06, 2007
Panic Attacks!
I don't know if I've mentioned this on here before, but from time to time I suffer from late-night panic attacks that essentially render me nonsensical for hours at a time. My mind just keeps racing and frequently I can't quite separate reality, as in "I am for some reason changing into my tuxedo at three in the morning," from dreams, as in "the ghost of Harriet Tubman is trying to murder me" (there is some bad blood between us, but still). Frequently I decide to clean or redecorate while in such a state, which generally makes it appear as though we've got a somewhat lazy poltergeist when I finally come to my senses. It's really and truly good times, except not.
But anyway, I bring all of this up because I pretty much had the mother of all such attacks yesterday and ended up delivering several hours worth of monologue to Roommate Liz in the deep of the night while fiendishly pacing our living room and inexplicably chugging water. Among the topics I addressed in my discourse were: 1) postmodernism and the difference between "story" and "history", 2) the state of the contemporary novel, 3) how fun it would be to be total best friends for life with Tina Fey, and 4) how I really like peeing. I also danced, on occasion, and refused to watch an Avril Lavigne video on the grounds that "I really think it might kill me." RL bore up admirably, however, and had me safely relaxed and in bed before I could decide to test out my homemade hang glider or drive to France or something. All in all, a magical evening.
I don't know if I've mentioned this on here before, but from time to time I suffer from late-night panic attacks that essentially render me nonsensical for hours at a time. My mind just keeps racing and frequently I can't quite separate reality, as in "I am for some reason changing into my tuxedo at three in the morning," from dreams, as in "the ghost of Harriet Tubman is trying to murder me" (there is some bad blood between us, but still). Frequently I decide to clean or redecorate while in such a state, which generally makes it appear as though we've got a somewhat lazy poltergeist when I finally come to my senses. It's really and truly good times, except not.
But anyway, I bring all of this up because I pretty much had the mother of all such attacks yesterday and ended up delivering several hours worth of monologue to Roommate Liz in the deep of the night while fiendishly pacing our living room and inexplicably chugging water. Among the topics I addressed in my discourse were: 1) postmodernism and the difference between "story" and "history", 2) the state of the contemporary novel, 3) how fun it would be to be total best friends for life with Tina Fey, and 4) how I really like peeing. I also danced, on occasion, and refused to watch an Avril Lavigne video on the grounds that "I really think it might kill me." RL bore up admirably, however, and had me safely relaxed and in bed before I could decide to test out my homemade hang glider or drive to France or something. All in all, a magical evening.
