Saturday, March 16, 2019

Better Every Day



I had a full day, but now I sit alone, and I am sad.  Ides of March?  Surely.  Mercury in retrograde.  Something.

Mostly me.

I am doing better every day.  That is what I tell people because that is what they want to hear.  I'm tough.  I look O.K., but I don't look the way I used to.  And it bothers me.

I went to the gym today and lifted more than I did a few days ago.  I get better every day.  That is what I say.  I am truly up to regular women's weights now.  The tough girls still swear at me if I get in their way.  There are mirrors in the gym, so I am not unaware.  But I tell you, I look O.K.  I just don't look the way I used to.

One shithead kid was giving me the goofy eye today.  He is a young, good looking prick, his first year out of high school, I think.  His muscles are growing.  He gets stronger.  He doesn't like me.  I know why.

After the gym, I walked to the Art Festival.  No art.  Two booths out of a hundred or more that were interesting.  I took my little Ricoh GR.  I took the picture above with it as I walked through the streets.  I walked and walked, then came home.  Between the gym and that, it was the most active day I've had since the accident.  Since I was run over.

When I came home, the wrecking crew still had not come.  And then they did.  I was tired and wanted a nap, but that was not going to happen with them here.

And now I am tired and sad.  I can't do the things I used to.  And I worry.  I feel myself a bore.  If I am not in love with me, who can be?  I need to feel my love again.  We need to love ourselves.

It is dark now, and all around town (including next door and across the street), there are parties.  I am not capable of that.  I will sit and watch t.v.  Fear and Self-Loathing.

I drink scotch, of course, to kill the worms from the really bad tuna in the Poke bowl I just ate.  Mostly ate.  Eating out is a terrible disappointment.  So the scotch.  I am drinking a good one, the last of the bottle.  Then I will try Suntori from Japan.  You know, the one Bill Murray advertises in "Lost in Translation."  I am hoping it will be good, but just in case, I bought a bottle of my old standard table scotch.  It is bad to begin drinking better whiskeys.  It is expensive.

Drinking whiskey and watching t.v. and feeling bad for and about myself.  Ides of March.  Mercury in retrograde.

No worries.  I'll be better tomorrow.  I get better every day.

No comments: