Wednesday, March 16

Bumblebee. Bumblebee.

Today is interesting.
I am not ecstatic.
I am not devastated.
I am not happy.
I am not sad.
I am not content.
I am not blue.
I am zero.

My voice teacher used to tape record warm-ups during my lessons.
On the recorder, there was a button that would make some moving numbers next to it turn to zero whenever I pushed it. I eventually figured out that it was a kind of bookmark. (I just looked it up, it's really called a tape counter.) Like if I set it to zero when my teacher started warm-up number three, I could fast-forward or rewind all I wanted and warm-up three would always be at zero.
Most of the time, I started the tape over, so I didn't have a use for this little gadget.
Except I played with it a lot.
I pushed it at random times while singing and pressed it rapidly when I rewound or fast-fowarded.
You don't understand how pleased I was to feel the little shift when the wheel reset itself to zero.
It was remarkably satisfying.
Except the wheel eventually couldn't reset itself as easily as before.
It would either take a few tries or it would slip back to the number it was at before if I didn't hold it down.
I was a little bummed about my new toy being broken, but then my lessons ended and I forgot about the tape recorder until... now.

Today, I have:
gone on a run,
watched a movie for class,
received bad news,
chatted with several old friends,
received great news,
read Great Expectations,
napped in the JFSB,
missed French...

Like my old tape recorder, it's apparently very simple for someone to just toggle with my counter as well... because whether each of these activities brought me joy or discontent, I can't tell you, as someone keeps zeroing my counter.
And I can only sit here neutrally and hope that they don't break it.



  1. That was a sweet image you just painted.

  2. You are extremely poetic in everything you do. I want you to write a book, because I will read it. And I know it will be fantastic.