End of the World Prevention

Originally Posted Thursday, April 17, 2014

There is no reprieve.  There just isn't.   Yesterday, I wrote my post with the idea that I would take my time going to work.  I'm sick, goddamnit.  I'd already gone back at least a day early out of necessity.  Then I got a call from another of the factory foremen. 

"Are you in your office?"

"Fuck, yea.  Are you?"

"No, I'm in the car.  I'm on my way in now.  You know we have a meeting, right?"

Stunned silence on my end, then, "No.  When?" 

"In half an hour."

On a normal day, it takes me half an hour to shower and dress, then another half an hour to drive in.  There was no way.

I was seven minutes late for the meeting. 

And that was just the beginning.  My head didn't feel attached to my body.  Nor my arms, nor my legs. Nothing connected, I just dealt with what came until well after my normal hour. 

It is not nearly done yet. 

After work, unimaginative, I got the same dinner I had the night before, the same sake.  Of course, you know, it wasn't nearly as satisfying. 

Three hours of "Game of Thrones." 

Bed. 

When I was a youth, they called me "melancholy" and "cynical."  True.  You might not guess it from the happy patter here.  I read an article on medicating youth this morning by a psychiatrist who wonders at the effects of giving depressed teens anti-depressents and anti-psychotic drugs during the years when they are forming their image of the adults they are to become.  Hmm.  I wonder.  If I were a moody teen in this era, I would have been on them, too, I suppose.  I am an Emo, an emotional type given over to brooding and worst case scenarios.  I wonder what it would have been like not to have felt all of that.  It is not the feeling, of course, but the end of the world scenarios that play out in my/our heads.  You do it, too, right?  I certainly never would have turned a one hour process into thirty-seven minutes averting another "end of the world" had I been medicated.  I just wouldn't have cared.  I wonder what else I would have given up? 

I'll never know, of course.  But no wonder our culture is obsessed with vampires and zombies. 

I have to prepare now for another day at the factory and more.  Q is coming to stay at the end of the week.  Thank god the maids are coming before then.  There will be scrubbings and lysol.  I'll need to begin picking up the snotty tissues that litter the house.  Just kidding, Q.  It's as clean as a hospital in here.  Have no fear.  What could go wrong?