an open letter. to the bandwagon.

dear bandwagon,

i'm sure that falling off you must be very important in the recovery process. so that one can figure out how to get back on. quickly. 

this knowledge doesn't make the attempt to get back on any easier.

that's what the past five days have been about. trying to get back on.

last night i bought myself two large cupcakes from crumbs. and vanilla ice cream. i allowed myself to enjoy it. all of it. (okay, okay, so i felt sick after the first cupcake and only got a bit into the second one before throwing it away all together--damn, there goes $3.75). 

and then i went to town. and began to clean my room.

i should know by now that my mental health is directly tied to just how clean my room is. and to how well my nails are manicured.

i swiffered. and bawked at the amount of dust on the floor. 

i found a hidden pile of clothes that had missed going to the launderer by mere minutes. damn, again. 

i cleaned out my google account. too many unanswered, unopened emails. 

and attempted to respond to some comments. note for anyone reading this: i am the worst. the worst at responding to comments or accepting awards. this does not mean that i don't love them with every ounce of love i have to give. i do. i love them all. i live off of them. i drink them in like the lemon-line flavored bubble water that i have grown to love. wait. hold it. actually, i love them like the lemon-lime seltzer water and the occasional diet coke that now tastes like sweet nectar of the gods. 

and this morning i woke as early as i could. 8:30 to be exact.

pulled back my curtain and drunk in the cool summer breeze.

pulled out the coffee i bought yesterday. westside market french roast. to replace the folgers that just wasn't cutting it. whole beans, i bought, yesterday. not ground. oooohhhhh. okay. breathe in. breathe out. folgers it is.

no worries. 

and then i cleaned my mac keyboard. my grimy fingers do a number on those poor keys. 

and can i tell you something? now, as regina spektor plays on the stereo and the cool breeze infiltrates this once-boiling apartment, i know that today will be better. a clean (well, clean-er) room will do this to me. and i will pull down a good book from the shelf today--and the book will help. enormously. 

i'm off to make myself two eggs with cheddar cheese. protein please. 

and then off to work where i'll spend much of my morning cleaning up the mess of someone else. and as i scrub the tables i'll list (in my head) all those things that i'm good at. i may be disposable (at my current job) but i'm very good at a very many things. 

and if by some strange twist i later run into the boy that i have a crush on. and he is something less than friendly (despite, my attempts at kindness) i will console myself by remembering that it's his thing, not mine. 

those eggs are calling. i'll see you soon--because, bandwagon, it's only been a few days, but i've missed you.

meg, meg, meg