Gravity's forces are especially strong on me today. I'm blinking a lot and I'm pacing, doing stupid little things that don't really need doing and ending up nowhere.
I just read that and I sound like I'm on meth. I'm not. I'm on Effexor, which is boring. I'm also on pot which shouldn't be making me like this. I'm sleepy but not tired. It's 3pm and it feels like that weird time of the morning when you have half your makeup on and think, I wish I could just not do this today. And you have clothes on, but not the stupid work clothes, no. The most comfortable clothes in the world but you would NEVER walk out the door in them. (hint: brilliant orange velour pyjama pants and a tattered wifebeater with a stain from when I spilled honey on it while getting my tea this moring.) So you just sit there for a minute and think and stare out the window into the pre-dawn dark and when you come out of it you look at the clock, and think, Shit, and finish putting on your makeup, get dressed in real clothes and walk out the door, away from the kitties, away from the comforters and laundry and the organic nummies, which, in fact, you meant to take for lunch today but forgot and you're not going back in again because you've already gone in twice for other things you forgot and a third time to entice the cat back in with wet food so you just go to the cold car where you realize you're going to have to eat whatever packaged crap you have to make for the kids, who are the ones with the little bodies that are most in need of good food. But your boss is WAAAAAAAAAAAY too cheap. So instead all of us have to share a Tontino's Party Pizza. Fuckin' ew.
But maybe I only feel like that because I've only got 1/2 my makeup on and I'm wearing those awesomely ugly orange pants and a wifebeater.
There is ticking coming from the box of crap meant for Goodwill on the floor. I sure hope there's a clock in there.
I have a thousand other things I could be doing. But I just don't wanna. I don't wanna eat, I don't wanna sleep, I definitely don't wanna go outside, I don't wanna paint or watch tv or a movie I don't wanna fold clean clothes and if I have to answer the phone again...fuck it. Disconnected.
That's how I feel. Disconnected. And cold.
I just read that and I sound like I'm on meth. I'm not. I'm on Effexor, which is boring. I'm also on pot which shouldn't be making me like this. I'm sleepy but not tired. It's 3pm and it feels like that weird time of the morning when you have half your makeup on and think, I wish I could just not do this today. And you have clothes on, but not the stupid work clothes, no. The most comfortable clothes in the world but you would NEVER walk out the door in them. (hint: brilliant orange velour pyjama pants and a tattered wifebeater with a stain from when I spilled honey on it while getting my tea this moring.) So you just sit there for a minute and think and stare out the window into the pre-dawn dark and when you come out of it you look at the clock, and think, Shit, and finish putting on your makeup, get dressed in real clothes and walk out the door, away from the kitties, away from the comforters and laundry and the organic nummies, which, in fact, you meant to take for lunch today but forgot and you're not going back in again because you've already gone in twice for other things you forgot and a third time to entice the cat back in with wet food so you just go to the cold car where you realize you're going to have to eat whatever packaged crap you have to make for the kids, who are the ones with the little bodies that are most in need of good food. But your boss is WAAAAAAAAAAAY too cheap. So instead all of us have to share a Tontino's Party Pizza. Fuckin' ew.
But maybe I only feel like that because I've only got 1/2 my makeup on and I'm wearing those awesomely ugly orange pants and a wifebeater.
There is ticking coming from the box of crap meant for Goodwill on the floor. I sure hope there's a clock in there.
I have a thousand other things I could be doing. But I just don't wanna. I don't wanna eat, I don't wanna sleep, I definitely don't wanna go outside, I don't wanna paint or watch tv or a movie I don't wanna fold clean clothes and if I have to answer the phone again...fuck it. Disconnected.
That's how I feel. Disconnected. And cold.
also, there is always this! ]booze!
[Edited on Jan 07, 2006 9:50PM]