April 10
So I'm back for more. I haven't done any writing today. Shame on me. I have done some knitting, though. I didn't write yesterday either. But I finished one of the books I have to read, so at least I'm doing something. I painted today too, which is now stinking this place up. I should just open the door and let the air in, but I'm always a little weirded out when people walk by and look in. Who knows what they would see.
I'm trying not to make myself crazy, which is why I'm writing. I've made a couple of phone calls, and when people don't call me back, I start to get anxious, like they might never call me back and they're avoiding me and whatnot. So I'm sitting by the phone, or rather listening intently for it to make some sort of sound, and so far it hasn't. I don't like it.
To try to give myself something to do, I walked down to the drug stores, which are ironically right next to each other. I needed some decongestant and some bourbon. Voila. Now I can breathe dizzily. I was planning on walking down to see the sunset, but I'm going to have to reevaluate that idea in a bit because I see some clouds rolling in, and it might be a dud. We'll see. As my luck would have it, I'll probably be down there in the sand with no reception and my phone will ring and of course I won't get it because it won't pick anything up. I wouldn't be surprised, because it always seems to happen that way.
I'm going to try to get out of the house for the day tomorrow and spend it in the car instead. I guess it will give me a chance to pay attention to something besides my silent phone and all the arts and crafts I have going on to try to stay sane. It's an uphill battle to say the least.
Tomorrow is my neice's birthday. She will be eight. The loss of my old self will be nine. Funny how things go away, but they never really do, because you always remember them. I know there are lots of things I could forget. Things I wish I could have back. My old self is something I'd like to have back. Sigh. Oh well. Happy Ninth Birthday, psycho self. The pro at the club thanks you for your patronage. Not that anyone but me knows or cares about the whole thing. I'm not even sure if I do, but I know that at this moment, I'm thinking about it and my stomach is starting that churning thing it does when I remember anniversaries I don't want to remember. April 10. Write it down. I don't have to.
I'm trying not to make myself crazy, which is why I'm writing. I've made a couple of phone calls, and when people don't call me back, I start to get anxious, like they might never call me back and they're avoiding me and whatnot. So I'm sitting by the phone, or rather listening intently for it to make some sort of sound, and so far it hasn't. I don't like it.
To try to give myself something to do, I walked down to the drug stores, which are ironically right next to each other. I needed some decongestant and some bourbon. Voila. Now I can breathe dizzily. I was planning on walking down to see the sunset, but I'm going to have to reevaluate that idea in a bit because I see some clouds rolling in, and it might be a dud. We'll see. As my luck would have it, I'll probably be down there in the sand with no reception and my phone will ring and of course I won't get it because it won't pick anything up. I wouldn't be surprised, because it always seems to happen that way.
I'm going to try to get out of the house for the day tomorrow and spend it in the car instead. I guess it will give me a chance to pay attention to something besides my silent phone and all the arts and crafts I have going on to try to stay sane. It's an uphill battle to say the least.
Tomorrow is my neice's birthday. She will be eight. The loss of my old self will be nine. Funny how things go away, but they never really do, because you always remember them. I know there are lots of things I could forget. Things I wish I could have back. My old self is something I'd like to have back. Sigh. Oh well. Happy Ninth Birthday, psycho self. The pro at the club thanks you for your patronage. Not that anyone but me knows or cares about the whole thing. I'm not even sure if I do, but I know that at this moment, I'm thinking about it and my stomach is starting that churning thing it does when I remember anniversaries I don't want to remember. April 10. Write it down. I don't have to.
posted by Ocean | 6:20 PM
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