Wednesday, June 22, 2005

Flaucinaucinihilpilification

I’m all kinds of out of sorts today. I’m not sure that sentence even makes sense, but I’m going with it anyway.

I am at the coffee shop down the street from where I live and it is very very busy and noisy and it is making me fantastically agitated. I have my laptop out and my mom on the phone through my ear-peice. I’m pretty sure I’ll catch on fire shortly as penance for attempting to be technologically advanced. Well, at least I don’t have an Ipod, so maybe I’ll only suffer minor burns. I thought coffee shops were equivalent to libraries in regard to noise level. Apparently I’m not enough of a coffee shop afficionado. They probably don’t even call them coffee shops anymore.

Some young girls, six of them, are next to me, playing cards. They are at that precise age where they still like their parents and have slumber parties (without alcohol and drugs). They are completely awkward and haven’t grown into their real bodies yet. Free of makeup and thongs. Lankiness. Braces. How I envy their innocence. Truly.

I hope the older ladies behind me aren’t reading this. As if they really care, or can see font this small from where they’re sitting. Really. How self absorbed I am.

Like I was saying, I’m in a panic today. I haven’t felt this, on the edge, feeling in quite a while. I’m not having a panic attack or anything (unless I don’t even know it), but I feel like if anyone asks me anything the wrong words will spill out of my mouth.

Random person: You think it’s going to rain today?
agreenleaf: Soylent Green is people!!!

So, I think I’m going to avoid discussion where possible.

Some sort of switch needs to be flipped in my life. I am out of control. Please. Do the honor. Flip that fucker. What? I have to do it?

[Old ladies to the rear have left and now a younger person (hence better eyesight) is behind me and making me super fucking anxious. He’s moving chairs and shit around. Walking around the table for the seven thousandth time, like my friend Megan’s dog that is always circling. Always. Circling.

Also, I don’t know how this guy across from me can study while the six girls play some loud and fast moving card game that involves lots of hands being slapped down in the wooden table right in front of him. I wonder if he thinks about any of the girls. You know what I mean.]

There is a little baby near me. Well, she’s probably 1 ½ or so. I want to hold her adorably soft chubby teeny hand. I think that would fix all of my problems.

I think we might be entering the Era of the Great Hermit-ing of 2005.