Friday, July 27, 2018

Free Mulch




My mother tells me I moaned and yelled in my sleep all night.  She said she was worried about me.  She told me this when she got up after I did.  I've been aching and have stabbing pains all over my body this morning.

"Do you remember having bad dreams?"

"No."

"Do you feel rested?"

"I never feel rested."

I believe aliens perform experiments on me at night.  There is no other explanation.

It is horrible, really.  I had given my secretary some advice the other day which was unusual because I don't give people advice, but she has been dwelling in a bad psychic place, so I told her she needed to focus on some positive thoughts.  Then, yesterday, I realized that I was probably speaking to myself, and I decided to take my own advice.  I need to focus on some positive thoughts.

Trying to find one is difficult.

Instead, I headed to my favorite bar after work and had two Old Fashioneds.  And they sent me for a loop.  When I got to my mother's, I had wine with dinner and then the usual scotch.  All this after I decided that I would stop drinking.  Heading to bed, I was worried, so I took the last half of a Xanax I had left.

I guess that's when the yelling began.

This morning I am tired.  I may be catching the dreadful cold that is going around.  My mother has had it for days, so it is really inevitable.  The weekend weather will be shit and gloom.  I want to go into a sensory deprivation chamber until it is over.

I am always anxious about my health now that I have a doctor.  Always.  I wonder what I have done to my "levels" at every moment.  I'm not worried.  I'm scared.

I tell myself I will quit drinking.  Then I tell myself I will quit eating.  And then I tell myself I will quit both.  I will become an ascetic.

I always write aesthete first.  I confuse the two.

I will become gaunt and hollow.  I can see myself all slim and ropey.  I can feel the emptiness inside.

If I lived in California or Colorado, I would just eat gummy bears and drink water.

See?  Focusing on the positive.  This is why I don't give advice.  Nobody takes it.  We want to share the depression and gloom with everyone.

As I've always said (for ill or good), what do we learn from happy?

1 comment:

Rhonda Boocock said...

I've been craving for a cocoon to hide in...or a womb if I'm really feeling desperate.