Autopilot

I’m cur­rently on autopi­lot. Doing with­out think­ing, and just being.

It’s a strange feel­ing because I’ve been try­ing to get to this level where I’m no longer con­scious of try­ing to be at this level¹. It’s a recur­sive night­mare. But now that I’ve been here for a few days, I’m not sure if I like it. I can’t tell if it’s because I’m not used to it, because I feel like I’m miss­ing some­thing, or because I feel way too overstimulated.

I tried to sched­ule a day of rest, aka me time, aka her­mi­tiz­ing in my house, in between every event, but that didn’t work out. I won’t have a sin­gle day to myself until the 3rd of January. I was hop­ing for a hol­i­day where I could sit and do noth­ing for two days in a row, just so it’d be like a long week­end at least. I’ve been try­ing to cel­e­brate because I fin­ished my con­tracts early, but I sup­pose these last few days have been enough of a treat, even if it’s left me with­out any time to with­draw and reflect.

One day I woke up at Darren’s house, went down­stairs, turned on the TV, and Serendipity had just started. I remem­ber watch­ing this generic hol­i­day dri­vel set in a New York Christmas at Vicky’s house back when I was in uni­ver­sity. It was def­i­nitely Christmas back then cause I was back home in Toronto, before my par­ents divorced, and we went to house par­ties as a fam­ily. It was it’s own lit­tle serendip­i­tous sign, remind­ing me the hol­i­days were here, and I should take it all in for a second.

1. Croupier, star­ring Clive Owen, is com­pletely based on this idea. Go see it. [↑]