with apologies to my peeps

you know how when you have a lot to do, and you're totally getting a lot done, when you skip a task because you're so damn busy - you feel like you're not getting anything at all done? uhhh, but maybe that's just me. i'm fascinated by a paradox like that. so now i'm in that thing where one of my bajillion juggling balls drop and i screech in a panic until i get some cheese to calm me down.

somewhere in all this i've managed to let my friendships wither to rather slim amounts of communication. i wanna scream out "I'M SORRY!" to all of my peeps at once. i know that in reality they will forgive me for going into my hole and being all mysterious and shit. i'm not mad at anyone, i'm not depressed, i don't have any major breakdowns scheduled for the present moment, so i don't want anyone to worry about me. i think i just have a touch of information overload that makes me retreat to my own little world the second i hit the door at night.

there is an interesting phenomenon that happens to me when i get really busy. sure i'm out there and talking to people and getting messages and hearing my phone beep all the time and... and... and... i feel disappointing and isolated somehow. it's funny how being so jacked in to so much stuff can put you in such a solitary haze. i think i even wrote a paper on this not so long ago when i was still in college. ironic how i've fallen victim to the very thing i've warned myself about in the past. you would think i would see it coming.

this leads to a whole other discussion about ironic isolation induced by living in a techno-glutted world, but i'll leave that one for another time. scott and i have had an ongoing thing about this for years. it's like a whole dissertation that should be saved for the possibility of further tortured times of education.

for now, i'll just apologize for for being a hermit to my actual life and admit that i need to keep up with people and stop making excuses for why i would rather crash on the sofa, forcing stuart copeland and mr. bubbas to watch endless amounts of bad television with me in the middle of the night while i get other work done. the cats would be happy to see me having a life as long as it doesn't interfere with their shedding and eating schedules. but you peeps still like me, right? i swear i haven't been eaten by a black hole or a giant octopus. and besides, it's opening night for one of the shows i'm directing (yes, i am on two different projects right now outside of work, because i'm an idiot) and i fell the three o'clock jitters lurking in the background. love me, i beg of you!


other things to catch up on:
the recycling is getting restless
thank you notes are polite
cats need a nail clipping