I was up at 5am the other day to go to a sober morning rave. It was a good way to wake up - dancing as the sun rises is always fun, but I have been tired ever since. I think I have rave jetlag.
It's been exactly one month since my last post and I don't know why I've gradually lost interest in blogging but I'm somewhat uninspired to write on here. Work is taking over my life and what little time I have left is spent catching up with friends, doing errands and scrolling Twitter and Instagram in bed.
It's safe to say I'm pretty bored, working way more than I'd like while also pushing myself to be social so I don't become a hermit who only speaks to people about thread counts and towels. (I sell linens in a department store, I'm not just a weird bedding fan.)
After that dance party ended at 10am I took a little solo trip to the Irish Museum of Modern Art. It was the first time I've had hours to myself in weeks and it was glorious. Sitting outside nursing a coffee and enjoying Taylor Swift's new album has been the happiest I've felt in months.
I wandered through their current Primal Architecture exhibition and saw some bits of their regular collection display. I loved seeing Linder Sterling's collages - her aesthetic is such an inspiration to me. I need to get back to doing my own stuff again, I'm out of practice!
It's important to get out there and do things you enjoy - with or without someone else's company. I needed a couple of hours to recuperate and get thinking some thoughts that I had pushed aside. I bought a new notebook/diary/journal (whichever sounds the least lame...) and I have plans to write and sketch and try to become better... both creatively and mentally. I have time off from work next week and I'm going to Berlin with some of the most wonderful freaks I know, so here's hoping I come back rejuvenated and excited about life again. If adulthood is all about being stuck in ruts I want out.
The stickiest ruts seem to be those of the newly graduated, a group in which I can now count myself included. Graduating felt surreal and bureaucratic and not really enough closure for four of the best and worst years of my life. I might write a post on it soon... it was an odd day and felt a bit like Christmas; very ceremonious, I ate way too much, and in all honesty it was pretty boring.
Go get yourselves to an art gallery, listen to 1989 and drink Mochas. Regular coffee's don't have enough chocolate.