I've been listening to The Ocean by Matthew Good at work, for the past two days. It's by turns made me meloncholy for I don't know what, and also made me feel at home in this place.
The village I live in has changed from a winter wonderland without trees to a place that is carpeted with gravel and dust gets into everything. I'm constantly washing my hands because they feel coated in dust, and the windshield of my truck is always filmed in dust when I get in every morning. Atv's, trucks and other things whiz by making the dust rise up even more. A fine, fine grey dust that makes me leave ghostly footprints on the stairs when I go up to bed.

Tomorrow the weekend starts and I have all sorts of half-formed plans in mind of how to spend the time, that don't involve sleeping. My room mate has left for the summer and plans on moving in with another teacher at the beginning of the year, so I have to house to myself...to leave my dvds or books on the coffee table as I see fit.

So, I have a plan to paint a small mural in the corner of my new bedroom. I bought a set of black sheets (which seems like folly now that I know how much dust is up around here) and I thought the black tribal art and sheets would look kind of neat together.

Mind you, I have also discovered that my bed could fit in this open cubby hole. So, whether or not I will be sleeping in a cubby hole depends on how much I feel like isolating myself when the time comes for actually moving the bed. Crazy, I know.

I've been sleeping in a lot lately. I'm up at 3 a.m. and when I finally fall back to sleep, I'm almost literally unable to get out of bed when the alarm goes off at 7. I'm thinking it's a mind over matter thing, and eventually I'll trick my mind into telling my body what I freaking want it to do.
I've also given up pop. I still love it, and covet it but at the price of $37.95 for a 12 pack...I just can't in good conscience, buy it. I am chagrined.

But I guess forty dollars saved is forty dollars earned.

Labels: home improvement, money, sleep