Critical acuity

One of the standard jokes in our house is that whenever I ask Fiona what she thought of a book, a television show, a piece of music, she almost always gives a one-word response: "Good." Upon which I roll my eyes and tell her, "We really need to develop your critical vocabulary." She's a frighteningly intelligent girl with an obscene level of reading speed and comprehension, and she devours books by the bucketload and hugely enjoys them. But she really can't put into words why she likes something.

I have been thinking, rather fretfully the past several days, about my own state of mind, and pondering that I seem to be rather like Fiona in this respect lately. I've mentioned my growing dissatisfaction with the interior of my own mind before. This week it has really been bothering me again. I realized, rather to my shock, that I haven't read a book in over a month. I've been reading, but it's all been fanfic, and mostly stuff that I've read before. Much of which isn't very good. And I go grazing, looking for more, but I haven't found much that's very good, and I'm oddly disengaged from what I read, and unable to articulate why I'm reading schlock and unable to read anything, er, more engaging and meaty. I listen to the radio, to all the political commentary, but I keep turning it off, unwilling or unable to engage. Aside from the fact that the President's voice causes visceral revulsion, I mean. I want to be engaged. But I'm having trouble. I want to eat a lot of crap that isn't good for me and not get out of bed.

What's going on? It's not That Time of the Month where my mood often takes a dive. I don't feel like I'm sad or depressed. Not exactly. But I don't want to be at work, and I don't want to be doing my usual responsibilities. I'm highly irritable with the rest of the family about the state of the house--I mean, I yelled a Rob like an absolute fishwife this morning about leaving the dishes undone yet again. (This is one of the nastiest chronic fights in our marriage, an issue that will never never never get resolved. Our deal was that I cook, Rob does dishes. Then we started giving the girls the chore of emptying the dish drainer. When they forget, as they often do, Rob reasons that therefore he doesn't have to do the dishes since they haven't done their job. So I come home at the end of the day to a filthy kitchen, and before I can even start dinner, I have to empty the drainer since the girls are off somewhere--the girls' jobs--and do a bunch of dishes--Rob's job--before I can even start dinner. Then since the dishes are still wet before the girls go to bed the drainer doesn't get emptied again. And then that night Rob reasons, you guessed it, that since the drainer isn't empty therefore he doesn't have to do the dishes! I end up doing both the girls' and Rob's chores and am bitterly, scorchingly resentful. But this is nothing new.)

I talked with Kij about this weird state of mind a bit today. Not quite a depression that I recognize, so what gives? She floated an idea that had occurred to me: we've just gone through an extraordinarily difficult time, what with the layoff, and now that it seems safe to almost relax, all the stress that I've been holding at bay by sheer willpower has come flooding in now and taking me by surprise.

Well, that sort of makes sense.

I feel so stupid. I read and I can't evaluate why I'm reading something, even though I don't like it. I'm self-conscious about continuing to mention wizard rock on this journal, when all I seem to be able to say about the songs I recommend is, "I like it." Where is my critical discernment? Where is the razor-sharp mind I used to have? (Or did I ever have it? Am I misremembering myself? Well, I was voted Ms. Brain of my high school class of 825, wasn't I?) What has happened to me?

I feel like I'm boring everyone to death if they've read this entry this far.

It is winter. Cold, dark and nasty. I need order in my environment, and I live with people who continually thwart that. I have a soul-sucking job (I got an email from one of my bosses today that literally said, "Follow up on this and make sure that it gets done yesterday." I mean, they're nice bosses and all, but still.) We still have money worries. I have other worries, off-stage from this journal that Elinor Dashwood doesn't talk about. I've battled depression for years. I suppose, given all this, it's not surprising that I feel this way.

I wonder if it will get better. It's rather uncomfortable. I don't like this not-liking the inside of my own mind.

Improv Everywhere

Improv Everywhere [improv_evrywhre] did a great mission in New York's Grand Central Station: They got hundreds of agents to freeze in place for five minutes--and then photographed and videotaped the passersby's reactions.

Edited to add They've just set up an Improv Everywhere global site! I'm member #309 of Improv Everywhere Global, and I just joined the Minneapolis/St. Paul team!