Cathartic Release

Today was a short day for me. I over slept, something that I really enjoy doing...that is until I realize I did it. I rolled out of bed around noon to a quiet house. When I saw what time it was, I felt panic set in at the thought that half the day was already over!

Checked the mail and found my mobile bill which pissed me off (see previous post). I spend an hour dealing with that mess and still I don't have satisfaction. Anyway, I don't get to work on my thesis till around 3pm. The hours just seemed to fly by.

I try to sort out my work and get a clear picture of what's going on in my data set by writing it out. That always seems to work with me. I'm an incessant note taker. Two hours later, I have nice document all typed out with little graphs to help me visualize my problematic data.

I get side tracked once again due to my desire to procrastinate and end up cleaning my entire room. There's something about throwing out the crap in my room that is so relaxing. Perhaps it's the distraction from my work that I enjoy. In any case, my room is looking very neat and tidy.

I never realized how much of a pack rat I am until I have to throw stuff out. Old newspaper, envelopes, receipts, scrap paper...the list goes on. Why did I keep this stuff in the first place? Psychologists say that people who fear the outside world tend to hoard useless belongings as a way of feeling safe. Maybe that's what's going on with me?

Am I a loner? Besides my small group of close friends...small being 5....I don't really hang out with other people. A girl who was in my masters program (lets call her LF) jokingly said I was very anti-social. I don't think she was far off. LF and I ended up being really good friends. I really enjoyed having a girl to talk to as my close friends are all guys and straight. It was fun to bounce ideas off of someone who had a totally different perspective than I was used to.

What was my point? oh yeah...anti-social. I don't think I'm anti-social. I think I'm a sociopath...hahah. When I meet people, I can be very engaging. But it's all an act...that is, until I get to know them some more. I think I've spent so much of my life perfecting my abilities to lie (being in the closet and all), that I can put on the perfect facade for the right occasion. The funny thing is that once someone finds out I'm gay, I seem to lose my ability to lie to that person. Once that happens, the ace up my sleeve has been taken away. My biggest secret has been exposed. After that, what's the point in lying anymore?

If you're read this post in its entirety, you'll realize that there is no central theme to this rant. I initially thought that I would share how cleaning my room was a way for me to relax, but I just realized it now that this post was a way for me to release some of my stress. An exercise in free association. One thought flowing into the next...nothing connecting them except what came immediately before.

Hmm...I do feel a little better now :-)