There are nights where I cannot be your support system, your sounding board, or your amusement. There are nights where I just need to be alone with myself and not communicate with anyone. Sometimes the neediness of people that I know is too hot and heavy for me to bear. It itches and makes me uncomfortable in my own skin. There’s just not enough room inside for everything they need and for me. So I get smooshed to the bottom where it stinks and makes me crabby.
Tonight while I’ve been curled up in the dark with Jeff Tweedy (all thanks to Wolf-d-o-double g for the Sunken Treasure), I decided my new New Year’s resolution is to not make apologies for taking time for me. I still have great guilt when it comes to turning people down for social occasions. I feel like the only reason I can so say no is if I actually have something else to do.
But while I was convincing myself that Jeff Tweedy is the only man who will understand me (and he is, he is!), I decided I had enough. There’s nothing wrong with needing a lot of time to be by yourself. You can blame my artistic temperament like my parents always did. Or you can blame my anti-social tendencies. I blame the fact that it takes a lot of effort to be social and funny and smart and caring. While I love to do it, it also takes a lot of time to replenish those reserves. When you’re always being social and funny and smart and caring, the well runs a little dry. Darling ones, my well done dried right up.
AND THEN, when the well gets all dried-out I stop sleeping. Because my brain has decided that we cannot waste our very precious alone time on things like sleep. Sleep is for wussies. And it’s even harder to replenish when you’re fucking tired all the goddamn time. You know what I mean? Because goddamnit all I want is a little sleep and some nookie. Is that too much to ask for?
So I decided, I don’t care anymore. There I said it. I’m done with the excuses. I’m going to start marking days in my calendar that will be Jodi days where I will not go out and be and do. Instead I will do what I want, which will probably involve sitting in my pajamas and wondering why nobody likes me. Being completely unbalanced takes a lot of damn energy.
In other news, I decided while watching Jeff Tweedy sing on my TV that it would be so totally cool to have some cutie here to makeout with while Jeff was singing to my very soul. I’m convinced that there must be some genetic predisposition to getting all turned on and juicy by scruffy guys with guitars. And harmonicas. I think it’s the harmonica that really seals the deal.
Tags: Jeff Tweedy, Relationships
Posted on Sun, 21 January 2007 at 11:02 pm
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Damn, Jodi. I could have written this post a year ago. In fact, I think I did.
There’s nothing wrong with being by yourself when you need to be. Anyone who begrudges you that, or nags you about it doesn’t care about your well-being.
Oh, and for the record, I know the location of Jeff’s parents’ house. If you’re ever in the mood to do a little stalking …
22 Jan 07 at 8:50 am #Eeks…hopefully my request that you discuss my plane phobia did not piss you off. You totally should tell me to shut up, because no one understands “me time” better than me, so if I bug you just tell me, I soooo will not be offended or bothered. Because you know if you don’t I’ll just go on and on (kind of like I am here) and I ALWAYS have some new drama, because I am the queen of drama, and, well, yeah.
22 Jan 07 at 2:55 pm #If I didn’t want to talk to you, I totally would have ignored you. Honest.
22 Jan 07 at 2:59 pm #Okay good
22 Jan 07 at 4:43 pm #