fix yourself first

i'm freaking out.
how i hate that term.
i am: sad, disappointed, annoyed, wistful, stuck in a perpetual chasm of a most unrewarding deja vu. i don't even know if i should be worried. my instincts say i should be. but, despite how sparingly we all demonstrate it, we are all adults here, and we all know exactly what we're doing.
though sometimes i wonder.
work was dead slow last night; by eight pm there was one hospitalized patient and i was organizing the syringes. i left early; i wasn't supposed to be off until 12:30am. "it's saturday night" the shift lead said encouragingly. "go have fun." but i was already resigned to working all evening and my mindset was consequently too staid for potential hellraising (hellraising which would have been, i don't know, drinking a G&T instead of tea?). i ended up rewatching 'sideways' until 2am- it's only a month overdue from the library.
my parents came to seattle yesterday. they brought some of the items i'd claimed from my grandmother's old house. i now have: a huge box of her old cookbooks (including "jewish cookery made easy" in which she'd inscribed on the inside cover: "a gift to myself and my heritage!"), a porcelain lamp of a female statue with a large lotus-blossom shade (that apparently everyone else in the family, whilst ransacking the spoils for treasures of their own, vocally abhorred), and a huge sunflower painting that i remember from when i was barely able to walk. "you really should go visit her" my parents reminded me. i feel like a fucking asshole- perfectly willing to take her shit, but not motivated to drive 30 miles and say hello. i must redeem myself this week.
we went to hale's brewery so my parents could indulge their love of their potato salad. it was a good time and i am reminded anew of how much i care about them. there was only one brief lecture about my blood sugar. we were surrounded by surly hungover couples gulping bloody marys. they had two beers apiece; i drank iced tea. the sun was shining. at one point a group of people blithely walked past the restaurant wearing costumes: a rice farmer, a monk, a jester. my mother found this especially hilarious.
soundtrack of the past 12 hours: otis redding "come to me" and black rebel motorcycle club "killing the light." the latter is one of the best fucking songs ever, as well as one of the fucking best songs ever.