Sweater weather

I'm at the library. The sun is out, but it's no longer warm enough to justify a T-shirt and shorts. I'm reluctant to wear the shorts anyway as my waist size is a little smaller than it was when I first bought them. I think I overestimated my girth at the time. The process of clothes shopping has never been my favorite and I end up relying on gifted shirts and pants. It's probably about time to get some new clothes either way. Nothing really seems to fit anymore.

My friend told me a little while ago that I'm always looking for others' advice on what I should do, instead of just doing what I want. Maybe I don't feel like a decision is justified unless I get enough positive feedback. Is this insecurity or conditioning? Am I a pet that's waiting for the command, then the "good boy" and treat afterward? It always feels like I'm waiting for something. It's hard to just do what you want when you don't know what that is anymore, and you're more concerned with keeping your life running than taking it anywhere.

I'm lost in a "Yacht Rock" playlist on Spotify right now, trying to follow my train of thought. I remember recording a lot of these songs from an AM radio station in Winnipeg. I had to sit through hours of Michael Bolton and Celine Dion to get to them, but the older songs always stood out. Maybe there was a melodic quality to them I enjoyed, or the smooth production that contrasted against the mid-90s hip-hop and grunge imitations. There was a lot of music that came out of that time I've grown to appreciate, but back then I stayed in smoother waters. The university students that descended on the city in the past week weren't even born when I made those tapes. But I wasn't born when a lot of these songs came out either.

The city feels too small sometimes. The familiarity is starting to drive a lot of the magic away; it becomes background noise. Maybe that's normal when a place becomes your home.