Maybe because I've been away for two weeks, maybe because I pulled a proper all-nighter (just one hour's catnap at about 11 am), maybe because everything shimmers a little in the heat, but New York tonight seemed like a movie set. Improbably bright streets full of people silhouetted against the darkness, and around every corner a glimpse of a tall, lit-up building in the distance.
It seemed unreal, which is how my life feels right now. I remember feeling this way when I landed back in New York last August after nearly six weeks abroad, except then I think it was colored by depression and despair: What am I doing here, and why? I still wonder that, but it is more that I muse about it than I chafe about it. On good days, anyway.
Today passed in a blur. One minute it was 9 pm yesterday and I was dreading the writing of the story I had due today. The more excited I am about the piece, the harder I find it to write it. I think this is because my work always falls short of what I wish it would be, but none fall farther than the ones you want to be perfect. Anyway, I wrote straight through the night, and at 10 am decided it needed massive reconstructive surgery. I'm even less happy with what I turned in than usual, but at least it's done.
I pulled the all-nighter without eating, and I muddled my way through today. I know that being tired makes me both want to eat and be less able to resist, but knowing that exhaustion is to blame doesn't stop the feeling.
Two days without a binge.
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