...I kept Jenny up late, because i couldn't sleep - i was exhausted but, just before i fell away, all these memories and smells started filling up my head. It was a very strange sensation to the point where, a more than a few times it took me a moment to clear the past out of my eyes and comeback to my bedroom. Something triggered it; I'm sure - a smell or something i looked at; though while an occasionally sentimental person, I'm not all that nostalgic; my past has never been as interesting to me as my future, and while some days my present doesn't seem all that thrilling, i also have a good imagination that can fill in the blanks. I consider myself lucky in these ways.
Earlier we had been reading - me, with more Sebald; who continues to amaze me with his prose; if only i had my copy of "Vertigo" w/ me right now... [You, however, take delight in the ship, despoiling the lake with sails. I will go down to the deep. Plunge, thaw, go blind, become ice. In the tram, Dr K. is suddenly convulsed by a violent aversion to [mr.] Pick, because the latter has a small, unpleasant hole in his nature through which he sometimes creeps forth in his entirety...] Jenny was reading Tom Robbins... am i being ignorant to suggest that only girls like that guy? probably. Am i writing right now to put off the fact that i have a huge project due at the end of the month, and i'm totally stuck right now? definitely....
We finished the last hour before bed with an oration of Lovecraft's "The Festival" one of my very favorite and very short stories of his; his description of a sleepy evil new england town perched on the edge of a wintry Atlantic ocean during the yuletide is amazing and just short of fevered. And we get to listen to the church bells toll across the street every hour; and count them... Jenny counted 12, i counted 11, i'm sure it was midnight.
It was something maybe in those stories, or that we talked about reading a Bellairs novel next time; or some Poe; i'm not sure... But i started thinking of the way light came in through my Australian friend Jess's bedroom windows, and how there was always alot of beach sand on the floorboards; how their was this small picture of Bob Dylan that i hadn't ever seen before right above the lightswitch by the door... how i had a picture of that room somewhere; but i could remember where. How Jess came to visit me in one of her many tours of the world; and i barely had a moment for her then, and right now - i had nothing but.
Mostly thoughts out of context; scenes and alot of smells; i think my olfactory sense is better than my memory; None of them bringing back a slew of emotions though; it felt alot like having to sit through some familial slide show around the holidays, i couldn't leave the room, i was required to be there, even though i wanted to sleep.
Eventually Jenny noticed my discomfort and started asking me questions about this and that - and to her credit, even though it was after midnight; she seemed actually interested in hearing all my disjointed brick-a-brack. She's a very good listener. Afterwards i finally fell asleep, but this morning i woke up feeling very strange; i didn't have a single dream last night, that i remember, but today feels much like one. Even as i'm sitting in this terribly sterile office, sitting at my desk listening to keyboards clack and phones ring, i can't shake the feeling that the volume is turned down, or that i have cotton in my head; and that gravity is just a little bit unreal, a little less constant.
We don't pay for heat at our apartment, and i assume it's because no one has done any repair work in there for years; our windows look to be the same windows that were installed in the 1940's, and now they're loose and rattle when it's windy. Some effort has been made to install some outer storm windows, they tend to jam open, or skip rails. Last night the window by the head of my bed was letting in a constant drift of icy air, even though I'd tried my best to secure the storm window, and had taken a rather large scarf and jammed it into the sill for insulation; it helped a little.