The Blower

Song of the Day: ‘Ghost Story’, Sting

When I sleep, I turn on an air purifier (which at the age of nine I aptly dubbed ‘the blower’) so as to provide a blanket of white noise. Not only does it block out any ambient sounds that can keep me awake (as I am a very light sleeper), it’s oddly soothing and helps me to fall asleep quicker (do I have enough parentheticals in this paragraph?).

However. When the blower is on during the day, it drives me a little bit more insane. It just makes everything too busy and the room feel smaller. Furthermore, it’s usually my roommate who either forgets to turn it off when she leaves or just keeps it on whilst in the room. Now, I adores this girl, but it seems to add an extra layer of annoyance for me. As if she’s being selfish or inconsiderate of my wishes. Which is utterly ridiculous, because she is quite unable to figuratively step on toes and would be horrified if she thought she was inconveniencing me in any way.

Which leads me to believe the problem is me. What is it about the blower that makes it perfect during sleep, but atrocious any other time? And it’s even worse when there’s music playing WHILE the blower is on. I LIKE TO HEAR THE MUSIC, DAMMIT.

Lately, it’s been irking me more than usual. And again, it’s not my roommate, just the constant presence of sound in my life. I LOVE music and listening to people and whatnot, but there’s just something about the consistency of the blower that irritates the living hell out of me, which I otherwise find quite soothing.

Perhaps it stems from my high school days. When the blower was on, THERE WAS NO TALKING TO ABBIE. She was unavailable, determinedly so. Not only that, but on the weekends when I would sleep, it would be on til noon or later. Mayhaps it’s the fact that it signifies the END of sleep time for me - and it doesn’t seem to be ending lately.

Which, now that I think about it, explains a lot. I’ve been feeling uncharacteristically restless lately, the kind of restlessness that comes from too much sleep. Not that I’m sleeping too much - it’s just that I’m sleeping more during the day and less than usual at night. Kind of like a housecat, but with actual activity betwixt naps.

I feel like there’s no way to differentiate between my respective states of sleep and awakeness. Not just physically, but in the sense that my brain and heart aren’t getting the exercise they need. Or rather, I’m stuck in a place in which I can’t get the motivation to get the exercise I need. Problem.

I feel increasingly lethargic and - dare I say it? - lackadaisical. And I’m afraid it’ll lead me to a slump in which I can’t extricate myself. More than anything, I’d say it’s the emotional exercise that’s predominantly getting me down. Which isn’t to say that it’s not being aerobically challenged at all - let me tell you, my heart’s been doing some pretty crazy gymnastics as of late.

It’s just.... monotonous. The same thing it’s always done. I’d like a little variation up in here but not only do I lack the motivation, I seem to be bereft of hope. Which is increasingly harder to find with my intensifying state of destined hebetude.



‘If that’s all you will be, you’ll be a waste of time
you’ve dreamed a thousand dreams, none seem to stick in your mind
two points for honesty
it must make you sad to know that nobody cares at all.’ - ‘Two Points for Honesty’, Guster