I'm left with unscripted days entirely at my disposal. When I think about how incredibly rare it is to have a week of nothingness, I feel so strange inside. The kind of feeling that makes me want to start sobbing, but isn't really sad. It's almost like excruciating joy. But I'm crying anyway.

My therapist wanted me to observe my family over fall break. She thinks I think they are more tragic and sad than they really are.

I'm home and I'm blustering through the house like a Martha Graham dancer gone insane. I practice my contractions and my footwork any chance I get. I'm naked a lot, which is a nice thing about being home. It's not because I'm some sort of exhibitionist but because there's no one around. The house is empty and this is the country side and there's no one around.

I came home with bursts of overwhelming energy. I chattered to my parents non stop about all the exciting things at school. I rummaged through closets and found my father's letter sweater and a nice skirt. I vacuumed and danced and scared the cat with off key singing. I decided I was going to sew things, so I immediately found my ten year old sewing machine (what were my parents thinking when they gave a sewing machine to a nine year old?) and my mom found the foot pedal. If you have a favorite animal, let me know this week. I'll try to make you an animal. But your favorite animal can't be anything other than a turtle, flounder, pig, duck, or perhaps cat. I can also make pillows and skirts.

Oh, and I found out more sad things about my family. They are as tragic as I've always thought. They make me so sad and I love them so much.

2001-10-16, week off

before / after

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