Who needs sleep? I do, I do! I feel quite chewed up and have been miserable all day. Sorry, but I have. This headache is killing me. And I just have to carry on regardless. Nothing special about it, it’s just particular to today and unfortunate timing. I have some of my special, chewable, super-grown-up aspirin at home and there’s none to be had here so we’ll have to wait.
There’s been all sorts of ridiculous things going on. I feel like a hell of a hot mess and my face does not look great and I think, alongside the headache, the usual not-good-looking aspects of myself are really not being controlled and paid attention to, so, alack, alack.
So my goal is not to have to do anything once i get home but to curl up or down on some soft and available surface and close my eyes. This means having to collect all my thoughts now and get my shit buckled down before our final festival meeting and our last hoo-rah before tomorrow’s second wave of madness. I’ve built myself up and scraped myself together so many times today (imagine the broomsticks propping up Briar Rose’s melting cake in Sleeping Beauty) and now I need to find a thousandth wind and power through the next three to four hours. Right now, it sounds like insanity. I can’t even think ahead to this weekend when trying to manage this posting is going to test my mettle, my very soul. Ugh, I am so annoyed and irritated with everything. The mess on my desk is overwelming AND STUPID. The sound of my fingertips on the keyboard are like a relentless hailstorm.
While I’m typing and making up really tragic analogies for the horror of SOUNDS I MUST ENDURE HEARING (all the while people are slogging through the flood in Pakistan and other true horrors elsewhere), it is beginning to quiet down for the day. Thank goodness. Someone is apologizing for all men who have fucked up public bathrooms ever. I think that’s an apology bigger than one man can offer. Now he’s apologizing for all men and I begin to hear the facetiousness in his tone.
Oh, no Tarot update yet, but I will offer one as soon as I am able.
Now, the shop’s closed up and there’s nobody here but me and us chickens. It is …short-lived as the birther who works upstairs just came hollering in here at me for some raffle tickets. Having handed over the raffle tickets, I’m settling back in for the next forty-five minutes before we all noisily cascade in here and everyone starts talking to me as the information hub of the known universe. Which on some levels, I guess, I sort of am.
This is the cinematic verite of my existence. I am looking forward to being a good person and getting the diet underway, right now, food in general sounds pretty horrific. The pizzas we ordered are going to be a trial to stuff down my gullet. Do you hear the facetiousness in my tone?